


Free to Be You and Me

by same_space



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shop, Alternate Universe - College/University, Destiel - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-11-29 04:13:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 70,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/same_space/pseuds/same_space
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coffee Shop!AU and University!AU rolled into one. Castiel Novak is the introverted English Literature major at the University of Kansas. Dean Winchester is the elusive cool guy who happens to work in Castiel's favourite coffee shop. This is how they meet, and this is how Anna and Crowley play cupid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Coffee Guy

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Homophobic bullying.  
> A/N: I couldn't and wouldn't have gotten past the first chapter without my beta.

While looking up books on Middle English morality plays, Castiel is also on the phone trying to reassure his over-bearing mother that, yes, he’s doing okay, and no, he hasn’t had any more nightmares. He’s in plain view of the librarian, who is giving him a look that suggests he’s pushing his luck. Above him is a sign that says ‘Strictly no cell phones.’

“Mom, I really have to go,” Castiel breathes down the phone, trying to juggle _Introducing Morality Plays_ and _The Morality Play in Context_ into the crook of his arm. He shoots the librarian an apologetic look.  “I’ll speak to you tomorrow. I love you too, bye.”

Castiel jams his phone back into his pocket and carries the books over to the self-service machine. He hates this machine, but there’s a new policy and students now have to use it if they’re checking out less than five books. He punches in his ID number and password and sits his books on top of the scanner. Coming to Kansas U was the best decision of his life, but in all honesty he’d imagined lots of hardback books, lots of original manuscripts, and lots of caramel cappuccinos. He gets the caramel cappuccinos, but most of the hardback books turned out to be online journals, and the original manuscripts redirected to _Google Books_.

The machine beeps at him; it doesn’t recognise his ID number.  Castiel stares at it for a moment, frustration darkening his deep blue eyes.

“Just bring them over here.” Susan, the librarian, calls from behind her desk.

Castiel picks up his books and takes them to the main desk, relishing the quality of human contact. Susan has the books scanned and booked in less than thirty seconds. She doesn’t even need his ID number.

“You doing okay?” She asks. Castiel has known her for two years now, and she’s pretty much his favourite person in the university. She’s old, around sixty, and she has big glasses and curly grey hair. He offers her a tiny smile, appreciative of her concern. 

“Yes, thank you. I have an assignment due at the end of the week that I haven’t started yet, but apart from that everything is okay.”

“That’s not like you,” Susan smiles, and she’s right. Castiel never leaves assignments until the last week, but this year seems to hold a lot more distractions for him than the last. Mainly Dean Winchester; those green eyes that seem to give off their own light, the scattering of freckles, and the smile that suggests mischief and all kinds of fun have become more of a distraction than Castiel likes to admit.

“I guess I’m just taking a while to get back into the swing of things.” Castiel lies. “Thank you for rescuing me from that dreaded machine.” Another smile, this one warmer, flashes at her.

“No problem. See you soon, Castiel.” Susan smiles as Castiel takes his books and leaves the library. Originally he’d planned to stay and go through his books, but thinking about his assignment makes him think about procrastination which makes him think about caramel cappuccinos. And Castiel really does love caramel cappuccinos.

The Coffee Shop is Castiel’s favourite place in the world. It has a pretty generic name, but it’s just outside of campus and it’s around the corner from Starbucks, so it’s always fairly empty. They have nice brown leather sofas and oak tables and art on the wall that wasn’t printed from a computer. Plus they have Dean Winchester working there, which is Castiel’s favourite part. So he goes back to his apartment, dumps his books down on his already over-crowded desk, and grabs his laptop on his way out.  

It’s winter, so everyone is wrapped up in scarves and gloves and the flu. The streets are cold and wet and as usual it’s raining slightly, the kind of rain that makes Castiel’s hair annoyingly fluffy.

When he arrives at The Coffee Shop, no one else is there. Not even Dean Winchester. Castiel closes the glass door behind him and waits at the counter, pulling his scarf from around his neck. He glances at the menu as if he doesn’t order the same thing every time he comes here. It’s not that he doesn’t like the coffee, it’s better than Starbucks, at least. But what he likes most is the way Dean smiles at him, like Dean can really _see_ him. He knows he’s being ridiculous, but he can’t tell whether it’s the coffee or Dean’s eyes that warm him when he comes here.

Castiel hears giggling when he removes his coat. He glances curiously around the shop to find the source but no one else is there. The ‘Staff Only’ door swings open, and a girl with long dark blonde hair and brown eyes smiles at him. She must be new. She’s really pretty, and she’s probably a nice person, but Dean is standing behind her with his freckles and his bright green eyes and his soft hands, and they’re laughing together and apparently they have an inside joke. Castiel immediately hates her.

“Hey, Cas.” Dean grins and cocks his head to one side in the way that makes Castiel’s stomach turn. His eyelashes are extra-long today, and the cold weather has turned his skin to porcelain. Castiel tires not stare.

“Hi.” Castiel manages, but the enthusiasm is lost on him. He doesn’t order anything, but goes to the back of the shop and opens his laptop. He tries not to feel crushed. But Castiel has never liked anyone before, at least not as much as he likes Dean Winchester. And he knows that Dean is probably straight and probably has a girlfriend and probably never thinks about Castiel other than when he’s at work, but sometimes they have these moments where Dean leans over the counter and he’s really close to Castiel’s face and they smile at each other and Dean writes ‘Cas’ with a smiley face on Castiel’s cup. Sometimes Dean comes and sits with him and tells him about how much he still hates his baseball team – which he’s thinking of quitting – and how much work he has to do to become a Physical Education teacher, and how well his brother is doing in college. And Castiel listens, and he takes in every word and he forms this idea in his head of exactly what Dean’s life is like. So yeah, he feels a little crushed, because today Dean doesn’t join him at his table, and he doesn’t even start preparing his caramel cappuccino, instead he laughs at the blonde girl and asks her what bars she goes to and if she has a boyfriend.

Castiel stares at the keys on his laptop and tries to work out at which point he actually fooled himself into believing he had a chance with Dean. Of course Dean is flirting with the new girl, she’s pretty and tall and she has clear skin. Dean plays for the Kansas U baseball team; he’s manly in all the ways Castiel can never dream of being, and Castiel is an idiot for thinking Dean could ever be interested in the skinny, awkward kid who drinks too much coffee-

“Caramel cappuccino?” Castiel looks up and see’s the new girl standing next to him with a paper cup in her hand that does not say ‘Cas’ on it with a smiley face. Castiel look over at the counter and momentarily catches Dean’s eye, but then Dean turns away and Castiel looks down at the table. He tries not to linger on the fact that Dean looked upset. 

“Thanks.” He takes the cup from the blonde girl and does his best not to throw it at her as she walks away.

“He comes here a lot.” Dean says when Castiel puts his headphones in but doesn’t plug them into anything. “His name is Cas.“

“So you’re going to come out with me and Jasmine tomorrow?” The new girl interrupts, blatantly not interested in this ‘Cas’ guy. She pushes her chest forward a little and runs her tongue across her upper lip in what she obviously thinks is a subtle manner. 

“Who’s Jasmine?” Dean answers idly, glancing over at Castiel who looks away just in time.

 “I told you earlier, my roommate.” She answers playfully. Dean doesn’t reply for a few seconds, and Castiel prays that maybe Dean isn’t interested.

“Yeah, sounds good, I’m sure I could take a night off to take you out for a friendly drink.” Dean grins at her, looking down into her eyes while she squirms with excitement. Castiel closes his laptop which he hasn’t even turned on yet and leaves. Dean probably doesn’t even notice.

As he’s walking back to his apartment, Castiel thinks about how much he does not want to be in this situation anymore. He does not want to like Dean Winchester anymore, because it seems to be having a bad effect on him. He’s not doing his assignments on time; he’s spending money he doesn’t have in a coffee shop that is a little bit too far away; he’s thinking about sex and not about the history of English literature. He’s feeling all of these things that he doesn’t want to feel, because Dean Winchester is perfect. He plays baseball and he’s majoring in Health and Physical Teacher Education, and he works in a coffee shop and he makes caramel cappuccinos that could make an angel weep. He has a little brother who he dotes on and talks to on the phone once a week. He lives two blocks away from Castiel in Oby Village, and he goes for a jog every morning before his lectures. He’s an atheist and a democrat and a social activist, he believes in equality and fair pay. Dean Winchester is perfect, and Castiel is screwed. And he’s also left his coffee. 

-

Anna Simmons is pacing around her room, trying to find that stupid piece of goddamn paper she had like one fucking minute ago. Castiel is sitting at her desk, writing her psychology essay and trying to keep her calm.

“It was here, I swear it was here.” Anna points to an empty spot on her bookcase. Castiel shrugs. He’s been here for two hours and he hasn’t seen anything on the bookcase other than books and a week old mug of hot chocolate. “Maybe I left it in my Criminology seminar, I know I definitely had it there.”

“Probably.” Castiel offers. “Now come help me with this.”

Anna sighs and kneels next to Castiel, reading over what he’s already written on psychoanalysis in the 21st century. This really isn’t Castiel’s forte, but as usual, his best friend demands that he help her because he’s super smart and he knows how to make any essay sound fantastic.

“It’s good,” She smiles, “I’ll take over from here, I need to add in my secondary sources.”

Castiel moves away from the desk and crashes on Anna’s unmade bed, which sits in the middle of the room and pretty much blocks access to everything. He closes his eyes and listens to Anna tapping away on the keyboard. He wonders if Dean has gotten with that girl yet. It’s been over a week since the incident at the shop, so Castiel figures Dean is probably already getting some.

“If was definitely flirting.” Castiel says out loud. Anna sighs, they’ve had this conversation four times now.

“He flirts with _you_ all the time. Maybe he’s just like that with everyone.” She says.

“He does not flirt with me.” Castiel feels a blush creeping up on his face.

“He draws on your coffee cups, he goes out of his way to make you laugh, he sits and talks to you about geeky stuff that he probably doesn’t even care about. He puts extra caramel in your cappuccinos because he knows that’s how you like it, and then uses that to make corny pick-up lines about you being sweet.” Anna says matter-of-factly, just a small hint of a smile in her voice.

Castiel stares up at the ceiling. Anna is wrong; Dean does not flirt with him. He’s just friendly, he’s just doing his job, and maybe he was just being friendly with the new girl too. But then Castiel remembers _I’m sure I could take a night off to take you out for a friendly drink._ Dean has never offered to take a night off to take Castiel out for a drink, friendly or otherwise, because Dean is not interested in Castiel. He’s interested in girls. And most likely people who are actually kind of cool.

“You just need to take it to the next level, invite him out for a drink or something.” Anna says with a tone of encouragement.

“Oh yeah that will look good. ‘Hi Dean, I’m really desperate and I fancy you and I heard you telling the new girl you’d take her out for a drink, so I was wondering if you could take me out as well please please please?’” Anna throws a pencil at him. Okay, maybe he’s overreacting.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself and do something about it if you like him that much. Why don’t you go and see him?” Castiel ignores her. Anna sighs at him and shakes her head. “You’re hopeless.”

“You’re horrible.” He answers in a put-upon tone. 

“You’re a virgin, and you’re going to die a virgin if you don’t step up.” Anna says, trying to tease him out of his bad mood. Castiel groans.

“I hate you.” He says flatly. 

“I love you too, cherry pie.” Anna laughs. “Anyway, what would you say are the benefits of psychoanalysis in childcare?”

“I’m majoring in English Literature, Anna. I’m currently studying plays from the Middle Ages, I have absolutely no idea what the benefits of psychoanalysis in childcare are.” He reminds her, haughty now. She smiles at him and he can’t stop his own lips curving in response, but he tries to remain stoic.

“Remind me why we’re friends again.” She says easily. If she was really as good a friend as she claims to be, she’d rise to his bait, but no. She’s all fucking serene and trying to laugh him out of it and sometimes he hates how good of a friend Anna really is.

“Because you love my company and because no one else can put up with you, and because we’d probably be dating if Dean Winchester didn’t exist.” She rolls her eyes at him; sometimes he’s impossible.

“Praise the heavens that Dean Winchester exists.” She says, “God, why would _I_ date _you,_ mopey?”

“Would _you_ consider that flirting? Taking someone out for a drink, that’s breaking the friend barrier isn’t it?” Castiel brings the conversation back to what’s on his mind. Anna sighs and turns away from her computer to look at Cas, who has now pulled the quilt up and over his face.

“So is using pick-up lines, and drawing faces in your cappuccino with sugar, and talking to you about medieval shit, real friends don’t do that, they tell you you’re being boring.” She explains again. “He either actually finds the subject interesting, which is unlikely, or he’s flirting with you.”

“I don’t understand your definition of flirting, it’s just a conversation.” Cas says, unconvinced. 

“And it’s just a drink, you’re over-thinking it.” Anna replies, turning back to her computer to check her emails. Castiel throws a glare at her back but it’s lost on her. There’s a moment of silence and then a very loud, ‘”FUCK SAKE!”

Castiel emerges from the quilt and glances at the computer screen. Anna is re-reading the email.

“We’ve been assigned our pairs for our class presentation. It’s in two weeks and we have to talk about psychoanalysis and if there’s a future in it. Guess who I’m paired with?” She demands of him, as though he has some sort of divine perception.

“Daniel?” He ventures. 

“What?” Anna’s angry face melts into a sigh, “No, Cas, Daniel left months ago. I’m paired with _Crowley_.”

“That asshole who kept hitting on you in the library?” Castiel sits up, suddenly interested. Anna complains about a lot of people, but this guy really is on a whole new level. Everything he does irritates Anna, from his outrageous class contributions to the way he glances around the room like he fucking owns the place. Cas has listened to her rants about him before, and like a good friend, hates the guy on principle. 

“Yes, the same asshole who keeps trying to add me on Facebook.” She says, as though friending someone on Facebook is the most outrageous, offensive thing a person could ever do.

“Maybe he just really, really likes you.” Castiel suggests slyly, mimicking Anna’s own response about Dean.

“Maybe he should take a hint,” Anna replies. “I’m not interested.” Her mood darkens, and Castiel knows when his male presence is no longer wanted. He picks up his bag and throws his laptop back inside.

“Well, I’m gonna leave you to finish your essay anyway. Try not to kill Crowley, yeah? He’s not worth doing time for. I’ll come and see you tomorrow. Probably.” Castiel tells her. There’s a hint of a smile when she glances at him.

“Okay, thanks for helping me.” Anna gets up to give him a hug. “Give me a call in the morning, ‘cause I might be busy yet. And go and see your lover boy!”

Castiel rolls his eyes and closes the door behind him. 


	2. White Angel Enchantment

It takes Castiel three days to stop moping. He decides to take Anna’s advice and just ‘go back to the shop, otherwise you’re only going to spend the next year of your life wondering _what if_ ,’ which Castiel thought was really corny, but at least she has a point. So he gets his long tan coat on and his gloves and his boots and he takes off into the snow.

The campus is dead. No one wants to venture outside on a Sunday morning into the freezing cold snow, and Castiel really doesn’t blame them. The streetlights are still on even though it’s almost 10am, and behind the thick layer of clouds Castiel thinks the sun is probably rightfully taking day off. He can appreciate having free mornings like this now that all of his assignments are out of the way. Halloween is a little over two weeks away and he’s already secretly thinking about his costume.

He’s thinking about either going with the Frankenstein or the Napoleon Dynamite costume when he turns the corner onto Filbert Street. The closer he gets to the shop, the more Castiel starts to freak out. What if the girl is there today? What if Dean’s shifts have changed and he doesn’t work Sunday mornings anymore? What if they’re both there together and they’re flirting again? What if Dean has quit? He’s barely a meter away from the door when Castiel’s insides relax. He see’s Dean through the glass window, idly cleaning the counter with no effort whatsoever, and he’s alone.

“Hey, Cas.” Dean says brightly as Castiel walks through the door. Castiel thinks Dean has the most gorgeous smile in the world, his straight white teeth framed by soft pink lips -- lips that Castiel has spent a considerable amount of time fantasising over, and there’s nothing in the world he’d rather be greeted by. He feels the warmth in his stomach before he even orders a coffee. 

“Hi, Dean.” Castiel smiles back, sitting himself down at the counter and pulling off his coat and gloves.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, my little caramel cappuccino.” Dean says easily as he begins to make the coffee. Castiel pulls the most disgusting face, so he’s really glad Dean has his back to him. He doesn’t even know which part of that sentence to begin with. The part where Dean has actually noticed that Castiel hasn’t been coming in, the part where he called him a _caramel cappuccino_ or the fact that he referred to Castiel as _his_.

“I’ve been helping my friend with her assignments.” Castiel answers, trying to keep his voice level.  _My little caramel cappuccino_ is forever etched into his brain.

“Ah, I hate assignments. I want to be a P.E teacher, not a scholar. Wish the university would see it that way.” Dean smirks. Castiel nods, watching as Dean pours in that little extra bit of caramel.

“You going to stay in Kansas then? When you graduate?” Castiel asks. Dean turns around again, and Castiel’s stomach flips when he realises that he’s picked up the marker pen.

“Yeah,” He answers, scribbling something on the cup. “I wanna teach in high school eventually. Here we go.” Dean places the cup down in front of Castiel, a big smiley face and ‘CAS’ written down the side. Castiel tries to keep himself together.

“Thank you,” he whispers. Dean flashes him another smile.

“So what you been doing other than helping out your friend with her assignments? You’re studying English Lit right?” He asks, leaning against the counter. Castiel stares into his coffee, trying really hard not to grin to himself because Dean remembers what course he’s taking. He’s only ever told him once, a few months ago when they first met, which means Dean was actually listening and paying attention and-

“Cas?”

Castiel looks up, Dean is leaning over the counter now, and he’s looking at him expectantly. “Sorry, I was thinking about something-“ Castiel quickly realises how bad this sounds. “Not that I wasn’t listening! I was listening, I was just thinking about when we met, not that- I mean... I was just thinking about how you knew what course I took, but then I remembered that I’d told you... So that’s how you knew.” Dean grins at him like Castiel is the most remarkable person in the world, and Castiel just sits there, blushing like an idiot and trying to piece himself back together.

“Yeah, you told me.” Dean says, biting his bottom lip through his smile in the exact manner that Anna said is definitely flirtatious. “Did you not think I’d remember?” Castiel didn’t think that Dean would even remember his name. Back when Cas started coming here, it was busy all the time and Dean seemed to be on friendly terms with pretty much everyone that came in.

“Yeah- I mean, I don’t know. I guess.” Castiel shrugs and smiles. Dean is still leaning over the counter and he’s still grinning and Castiel’s caramel cappuccino still says ‘CAS’ on it with a smiley face. And _my little caramel cappuccino_ is still playing on repeat. Castiel is insanely happy right now.

Dean goes into the back to empty the dishwasher while Castiel takes his usual seat at the back of the room. He tries to compose himself, taking several deep breaths and thinking about bad situations to try and neutralise how excited and giddy he feels inside. He tells himself that Dean is just being friendly, that he likes that girl because he’s straight. But then he gets a text from Anna that says ‘Are u there yet?? WHAT’S HAPPENING? X’ and he replies with ‘He called me his little caramel cappuccino, how do I stay cool? x’

Castiel puts his phone away just as Dean emerges from the staff room, two cookies in one hand and a book in the other. He has a mischievous look on his face.

“If I give you a free cookie will you help me go through something?” his eyes flash playfully and Castiel thinks he might just float away. He ignores the vibration in his pocket and tries to play it cool. He’s already messed up enough today.

“Sure, what do you need help with? If it’s related to physical science or anything like that I’m really not your guy.” Castiel bites the inside of his cheeky because he _is_ Dean’s guy, he’s Dean’s _little caramel cappuccino,_ to be precise. Dean sits down opposite him and hands the book over. It’s titled ‘ _In My Time of Dying: 101 accounts of bullying in the classroom._ ’ Castiel stares at the cover for a few seconds before looking up at Dean.

“I have to write a paper on bullying in the classroom for my teaching qualification. I have to include an interview with another student about what their views are, and then I have to talk about them. It’s just to see if I can adapt to other people’s ideas.” Dean explains, placing a freshly baked white chocolate cookie in front of Castiel. “It’s called _White Angel Enchantment_ , we got them in yesterday. They’re delicious.”

Castiel places the book down on the table and looks at Dean, who is breaking his cookie into four pieces. His fingers press down on the edges of each piece so that the cookie is softer and more rounded. He takes at least a minute to finish pressing the four pieces, and Castiel watches him in silence, trying not think about how soft Dean’s hands look and how nice they’d feel on the small of his back. Dean becomes suddenly aware of what he’s doing and looks up, a blush spreading beneath his freckles.

“Sorry. Bad habit. So anyway, the interview... well, it’s just a couple of questions, if that’s okay?” he says, his voice low and warm. Castiel nods and offers him a small smile.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He says seriously, trying not to think about how adorable Dean is with the cookie and the blush on his cheeks and his voice all confidential. He tries to concentrate on Dean’s assignment and not Dean himself. Dean flips open his book and pulls out a piece of paper he’d stashed in there. Castiel watches his every movement as his cell vibrates again.

“This shouldn’t take too long,” Dean tells him, and Castiel really hopes he’s wrong, because he could sit here and admire Dean Winchester forever. “Okay, first question, state your name, gender, and date of birth.”

“Castiel Novak, male, August 20th 1991.” Castiel can feel his stomach turning as he realises he could use this situation to find out more about Dean. “When’s your birthday?”

“January 24th, I’ll be 21 next year.” Dean smiles, scribbling down notes at the top of his page. “So, what would you say is the main cause of bullying?”

Castiel thinks about his entire childhood, about middle school and high school, and the endless torment he suffered when Darren Vaughn found out about Castiel’s sexuality. He swallows the lump in his throat and says, “I think bullying is caused by society. Right from the moment we’re born, we’re pushed down a path, even as a newborn, we’re given certain toys and certain clothes depending on our gender. We’re given a blue bedroom if we’re male, and a pink bedroom if we’re female, and that never stops. Even as a child you’re expected to act like a boy, whatever that means, and if you don’t then people notice. If you’re male and you’re favourite colour is pink, then people think you’re different and they bully you for it. I think it’s to do with the brain. For example, people can’t make the connection between a male, and liking pink, because right from the day they were born, they were told that those two things don’t go together. So to that person this guy isn’t normal, he’s different, and he doesn’t fit what society as taught him, so he gets bullied for it.” Castiel takes a deep breath.

“Wow.” Dean smiles at him, a look of awe and compassion on his face. “That was a really good answer, I’m just gonna try and get that down.” They spend the next half an hour going through questions on bullying and what can be done to stop it. Dean acts genuinely interested in Castiel’s opinions, and it takes only a few minutes for Castiel to feel comfortable enough to confess to Dean that he was bullied in high school for being smart. No one comes into the shop until 11am, and then it starts to get a little busy, so Dean has to go back to work. Castiel finishes his second coffee, says goodbye, and promises to be back soon.

On the way back to his apartment Castiel takes out his phone and reads four messages from Anna, all demanding to know what is happening and can he please not leave her in suspense any longer and is he okay? Instead of replying to each one and writing out an incredibly long message, he decides to give her a call.

“Tell me everything!” Anna demands the moment she answers the phone.

“Come by my apartment, I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.” He tells her, a huge grin on his face. “I have so much to tell you.”

*

By the time Castiel arrives back at his apartment, still bright-eyed and smiling, Anna is already sitting in his living room. She looks around at him and beams. Castiel can’t help but flash a grin.

Castiel’s apartment is fairly small; one bedroom, one bathroom, one kitchen, one living room. But it’s all he needs. It’s homey and it has a lot of frayed rugs and bookcases and a very ancient looking television. Apparently Anna has found the cheesecake he’d left in the fridge, because it’s now on his coffee table, and around her mouth. 

“Tell me what happened.” Anna demands as Castiel drops his bag on to the floor and kicks off his shoes. He joins her on the two-seater sofa, hugging his knees to his chest.

“He called me his little caramel cappuccino,” Castiel whispers, barely able to contain himself. “We sat and talked for like forty minutes and he wrote my name on my cup and he knows what course I take and we did a questionnaire thing on bullying, and he was actually interested, he listened to me and he talked to me and his birthday is on January 24th and he’s perfect.” Castiel concludes, burying his face into his knees. “He’s perfect, Anna.”

“He _so_ likes you!” Anna says enthusiastically. “He likes you and you like him and before you know it you’re going to be telling me what he’s like in bed.” Anna laces her fingers together and tries to keep them still in her lap.

“I’m more than happy with just talking to him, just being friends with him.” Castiel smiles, a real genuine smile.

“If that was the case then you wouldn’t have been jealous over the new girl. You obviously want to be more than friends with him.” Anna points out, now folding her own legs onto the sofa. “Was she there today?”

“No, Dean didn’t mention her, and I didn’t ask.” Castiel answers, staring at his own reflection in the television across the room. Anna nods, and a comfortable silence falls between them. Anna has that look on her face that suggests she’s hiding something. It’s a look Castiel has seen before, and he can tell by the way she’s biting her bottom lip that she’s holding something back. “What’s up?”

For a split second Anna looks like she’s going to play dumb, but apparently she knows better than that, because she buries her face into her hands and says, “I made out with Crowley.” Castiel takes a second to process what he’s just heard. He thinks about is that cocky kid in the library dressed in black and making out with his best friend. He feels angry and protective and very confused all in one. And he can’t help it if he briefly wonders what Dean would do in a situation like this, how _he’d_ feel if his best friend announced she’d been making out with a guy she supposedly despised.

“You made out with Crowley.” Castiel rolls the sentence around in his mouth. It feels awkward and it tastes disgusting.

“It was last night.” Anna explains, still hiding her face in what Castiel can only presume as shame. “I was at Katie’s apartment and we were going over some criminology stuff. She said some other people from our class were coming over, but I didn’t realise she meant _Crowley_. He came with this other guy who I don’t know very well and he was talking to me and I was ignoring him but then something happened and I don’t know why but we were chatting outside and I just kissed him!” Anna looks up at Castiel and sighs. She looks genuinely distraught. “I kissed him and he kissed me back and I _liked_ it.”

“That’s odd.” Castiel states. “Why did you kiss him?” he tilts his head slightly, blue eyes still contemplating Anna. She glances at him and then at the floor; she considers lying, but she figures if anyone can handle the truth it’s her best friend.

“He just... he looked nice.” Anna whispers, a guilty blush darkening her cheekbones. “We were talking about criminology, and I know he’s full of himself but he really knows his stuff, Cas. He was telling me about how crime is literally everywhere, like in the Bible even angels had civil wars and stuff, and they would acquire weapons of mass destruction and use them on each other. He told me all this cool stuff that I didn’t know and then we were talking about...” Anna bites the inside of her mouth as her thoughts seem to trail off somewhere new. “I can’t even remember, but then Katie came outside and told us that she was going to get some wine out, so we went in and had a couple of glasses, and then it got late and Crowley said he needed to leave soon, so he went outside to have a cigarette and I went with him, and it was kind of disgusting because he tasted like really bitter wine and cigarette smoke mixed together, but the next thing I knew I was kissing him and he backed me into the wall and... and he’s such a good kisser, Cas.”

“So what are you going to do? Are you seeing him again?” Castiel asks, a curious smile on his lips.

“Well, Katie is having a Halloween party at her apartment, and she’s invited everyone on our criminology course. You’re invited too.” Anna answers, and Castiel knows immediately where this is going.

“So you want me to come with you as back up?” He smirks.

“Yes, please.” Anna grins. “I just want to see if it was a one-time kind of thing or if he’s actually interested.”

“I thought we established ages ago that he’s actually interested?”

“Well that’s just Crowley, he’s probably like that with lots of girls.”Anna throws on her best innocent angel eyes. “So will you come?”

“Of course I’ll come!” Castiel laughs, pulling Anna into a hug. She kisses him on the cheek in return and repositions herself so she can lay her head on his shoulder.

“Then we need to figure out a plan.” Anna continues. Castiel tries not to roll his eyes; he knows how serious Anna gets when it comes to planning. “Like, if he’s hitting on someone else then I’ll come over to you and you have to pretend to be chatting me up so I don’t look like an idiot.”

“How would Crowley hitting on someone else make _you_ look like an idiot?” Castiel asks, a frown creasing his forehead.

“Because it’s pretty much gotten around the whole criminology course that we made out!” Anna answers as though this is the most obvious thing in the world. Cas looks at her, face blank. “So if they see him hitting on someone else, I’ll just look like another one of his one night stands, and I am _so_ better than that.”

“But if you’re then seen being chatted up by me, won’t everyone think you’re jumping from guy to guy?” Castiel points out. Anna stares Castiel’s knee for a moment, deep in thought.

“That’s true.” She says, “So if Crowley _is_ chatting up someone else, then _you_ need to come to _me_ and chat me up and I’ll act like I’m not interested.”

“Wow.”Castiel laughs. “Love you too, Anna.”

Anna slaps him playfully on the knee. “You know it’s only an act, of course I love you.”

Castiel rests his head on top of Anna’s head and smiles. He thinks back to his first year at university, when he met Anna in the first week because they lived next door to each other. Anna had come banging on his door with homemade muffins and very red hair. She still has the red hair, but she’s never made the muffins since. She says it took her too long and it wasn’t really worth it because Castiel probably would have ended up being friends with her anyway. 


	3. Trembling Hands

Castiel only manages to find time to go to The Coffee Shop twice before Halloween. He’s bogged down with a class project which involves too much research and a collectively written paper. Socialisation has never been Castiel’s strong point, so he gets docked a few marks for not speaking in the presentation, which means he has to compensate by spending extra time in the library looking up critical responses to James Joyce in realism.

The first time Castiel goes back to The Coffee Shop, Dean’s manager is there, and the second time it’s too busy for Dean to leave the counter. Castiel doesn’t mind though, he’s quite happy sitting at his usual table and watching Dean’s experienced hands whipping up cappuccinos and mochas and lattes. Every time Dean makes a caramel cappuccino, he glances at Castiel, a hint of a smile on his lips. Those glances fill him with a delirious falling feeling that isn’t even a little bit rational. He tries not to think about what else Dean’s skilled, sure hands might be good at – he should be concentrating on his school work, not fantasizing about Dean’s hands – but every time Dean throws him one of those beautiful smiles, he can’t help wondering what Dean would look like on top of him.

Back at home, Anna has been frantically figuring out their Halloween costumes. This year is matching male and female angels. Last year they went as demons, so Anna said it was only right that they balance it out. Castiel stares at the floor length mirror in Anna’s bedroom and takes in his own reflection; a white t-shirt with grey jeans and a worryingly realistic set of white feathery wings. His face is paler than usual because Anna insisted that the costume wasn’t complete without a little make-up. His eyes are shadowed in grey and blue powder too, but he’s trying to ignore that part for the sake of his dignity.

“You look fine.” Anna tells him for the third time. She’s standing in front of her wardrobe pulling out last minute accessories. “I bought us a bottle of vodka to take, by the way. So help me find my boots.”

“They’re here.” Castiel points to a spot on her bedroom floor where a box of papers and some discarded pyjamas are covering her fluffy white boots. “Are you sure the eye-shadow isn’t too much? I look twelve.”

Anna jumps over the bed and reaches for her boots, glancing up and down at Castiel’s costume. “You look adorable. Who knows, you might even hook up.”

“Oh yeah, like that’s going to happen.” Castiel sighs, and he can’t stop himself from wondering what Dean is doing for Halloween, and if he’s dressed up too. That’s when he decides to go and have another shot of vodka before it becomes obvious that he’s imagining Dean dressed as a cowboy.

Anna spends the next fifteen minutes adding white feathers to her jewellery, so Castiel decides to sit at the window and admire the zombies and vampires that are littering the streets. He wonders if his family are having a good Halloween; if Michael, his older brother, is out starting fights again.

“You ready?” Anna asks from the doorway, and Castiel takes in her full image. She’s wearing a white silky dress with pale blue tights and white boots. Around her neck she’s made a necklace of feathers and white beads, and her wrists are decorated with silvery bangles. Her flaming red hair has been curled and sprayed and pinned back to highlight her pale, innocent face. She looks beautiful, and Castiel thinks Crowley is an idiot if he doesn’t notice. He flashes approving blue eyes at her and offers a smile.

“Absolutely.” Castiel jumps down from the windowsill and leaves the apartment with Anna. It only takes them twenty minutes to walk to Katie’s apartment. Apparently this isn’t just a criminology gathering, because there are at least thirty people that Anna has never seen before standing on Katie’s front lawn. The costumes range from Dora the Explorer to Satan.

“I didn’t realise this many people were coming.” Anna whispers, leaning closer to Castiel for moral support as she makes her way through the crowd. It’s a bitterly cold night and Castiel wonders how on Earth these people aren’t freezing, but then he sees the plastic cups of alcohol in their hands. He wonders if there’s going to be anyone he knows here. He sincerely hopes not.

They finally manage to get into the house, which is decorated with fake webs and pumpkins and black velvet. Marilyn Manson’s ‘This is Halloween’ is blasting out of some high-tech speakers. Castiel looks around the room and catches some girl’s eye by accident; she’s wearing a white jumpsuit with ‘infection control’ scrawled across the back. He looks away and then feels Anna tugging on his sleeve.

“It’s Crowley. Look, he’s over there.” Anna points to a group of about eight people having a casual conversation in the dining room. Crowley is all in black, and Castiel can’t tell if he’s even dressed up or not. “Should I talk to him? I’m not going talking to him.” She bites her bottom lip nervously and leans into Castiel.

“Why?” Castiel asks, glancing over at Crowley. As far as he can tell, he isn’t chatting up any girls. In fact everyone with him is male and- “Oh my God.” Castiel breathes, and his stomach starts doing that funny churning thing again. “It’s Dean.”

“Where?” Anna turns to get a glimpse of who Crowley is talking too. “The one in the suit?”

Dean is wearing a suit. Castiel is dressed like a flamboyant angel and Dean is wearing a _suit_.

“Okay, here’s the deal, we’ll walk past them and see if they notice us.” Anna says, already taking off into the crowd before Castiel can have a say. He tries to keep up with her and finds himself bumping into someone dressed as Darth Vader. He wants to go home and get changed and maybe cry in his bed for a little while because Dean is in a suit and he looks gorgeous with his athletic shoulders accentuated by the crisp jacket, the dark material highlighting his pale skin and green eyes, and the blood-red tie giving Castiel all kinds of dirty thoughts. Castiel didn’t think anything could suit Dean better than the jeans, t-shirt, and apron with the stain around his midriff that he wears for work; looking at him now, he realises that he was dead wrong. Dean should _always_ wear a suit.  

He finds Anna just as they come face to face with Dean and Crowley, who are still deep in conversation. Dean pauses, noticing Castiel in the corner of his eye. He looks up at them, a grin spreading across his face.

“Cas!” Dean goes out of his way to pull Castiel into a hug and Castiel is so surprised by it that he almost forgets to hug him back. Dean has pulled away before Castiel can barely even register what has just happened. “I didn’t know you’d be here.” And wow, Dean smells _amazing_. 

Castiel nods, his mouth trying to form the right words. The music buzzes loudly in his ears.

“You must be Dean,” Anna says excitedly, holding out her hand to Dean. Dean shakes her hand, a confused look on his face. “I’m Castiel’s best friend; he’s mentioned you a few times.” Anna explains. Castiel shoots her a warning look.

“Anna?” Crowley peers around at Dean’s new friends and notices a particular redhead who he happens to be quite sweet on.

Castiel watches as Anna tries to remain straight-faced, giving Crowley a simple, “Hello.” He admires her composure. 

“You look beautiful.” Crowley says easily, gesturing to her silk dress. “I was going to wear something similar myself.”

“And what are you supposed to be?” Anna asks, folding her arms across her chest.

“King of Hell?” Crowley shrugs, a lazy smile on his lips. His voice is deep and smooth, and Anna blushes at the slow drawl of it. “Or maybe just myself.”

“You don’t have a drink!” Dean says suddenly, pulling Castiel’s attention away from Crowley and nodding his head at empty hands. “Come and get one.” Castiel nods enthusiastically, flashing his eyes at Anna and receiving a wink in return. He follows Dean into the kitchen.

“So what are you dressed as?” Castiel asks timidly as Dean pours a can of larger into a plastic cup. Once again, Dean is making him a drink. His hands are just as sure now as they are when he’s making coffee.

“An FBI agent.” Dean laughs, flashing a fake FBI badge on the underside of his jacket. “It’s dumb, I know.”

“It looks good,” Castiel smiles to himself, feeling a little more relaxed now that he has a drink in his hand. What he means is _you look good_.

“I take it you’re an angel?” Dean grins. “It suits you.” Castiel can feel a hot blush spreading across his face.

“You wanna go outside? It’s kinda hot in here.” Dean asks, gesturing for Castiel to follow him into the back yard. Castiel can barely believe this is even happening. He still hasn’t processed the fact that Dean Winchester _hugged_ him. Surely Dean came here with friends, so why is he abandoning them to hang out with Castiel?

It’s cold outside, and there’s a lot of people – or rather, vampires – dancing on the grass to Swedish House Mafia. Castiel feels warmth spreading through his body when Dean’s shoulder presses against his own.

“Let’s sit over there.” He says, pointing at an empty bench at the back of the garden.

Castiel sits at one end of the bench, expecting Dean to leave a least a little bit of space between them, but he doesn’t, and Castiel almost passes out when Dean rests his head on his shoulder. “So is that like your girlfriend?” Dean asks suddenly, his voice gravelly and rough and everything that Castiel cannot handle. The thought that Dean might be jealous makes his stomach drop and his head feel light at the same time.

“No.” Castiel replies quickly, “She’s my best friend, she’s not... I’m-” Castiel pauses, wondering whether now is really the best time to tell Dean that he’s gay, considering Dean is practically laid all over him. “She likes Crowley.”

“Crowley?” Dean laughs. “That guy can be a real douche sometimes. I don’t think I’ve heard of _anyone_ liking Crowley.”

“How do you know him?” Castiel asks out of curiosity.

“He’s my roommate.” Dean explains. “I live with him and another guy called Bobby, but he’s always away.”

“Cool.” Castiel says, even though it’s really not that cool because like Dean said, Crowley is a douche, and he doesn’t even know the other guy. “I live by myself.”

“I wish I lived by myself, I like my personal space, you know?” Dean replies, as though he doesn’t have his head on Castiel’s shoulder and his hand on Castiel’s knee.

“I have a cat.” Castiel says, even though it has no relevance to anything they’re talking about. He thinks that maybe he should stop drinking. “His name is Loki, because he’s very mischievous.”

“That’s cute.” Dean smirks. “You’re cute.” Castiel almost chokes on his drink. He takes a second to compose himself, praying to any God out there that Dean hasn’t noticed how tense he is.

“You’re drunk.” He says matter-of-factly, because Dean _is_ drunk which probably means that he has no idea what he’s saying and he probably doesn’t even realise that he hugged Cas or that he’s now laying on-

“You’re still cute, though,” Dean smiles. They’re both still watching the dancing vampires, ‘A Little Piece of Heaven’ by Avenged Sevenfold now blasting from the house. It’s not just his stomach and head now, he feels like his heart could burst because Dean Winchester just called him cute.

“Thank you.” Castiel whispers, looking down at Dean’s hand on his knee and wondering if this is what love feels like.


	4. Hurts Like Heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I'm already getting feedback on this. Thank you so much! I'll be posting all the chapters I have up tonight :)

Crowley is pressed against Anna, kissing her neck and breathing obscenities, but she refuses to be anything less than classy about it. She’s not going to be just another girl on his list, even though she wants him so badly she’s breathless with it. Her hands are trembling, and God damn it, because Crowley can feel her shaking, and he grins against her skin. She places both hands firmly on his hips and tries not the shiver at the sound of his raspy voice in her ear.

“You know you want me.” Crowley smirks, his ego finally breaking through. Anna freezes at his words, so assured and knowing and cocky. It’s the tone more than the words that anger her; what is she to him? She’d begun to think he was different than he seemed, different from what everyone said. And boy did they warn her. But they’d had good conversations and she felt like she could maybe get to know him. But that _tone_. That cocky, certain, calculating tone that said he’d known all along that she’d fall for him, that they were always going end up here, pressed up against each other, she trembling with desire and want for _him._ In that split second, with his breath still warm on her ear, she remembers everything she disliked about him in the first place, wonders why she ever changed her mind. And she thinks she’s had too much to drink and all of a sudden every nerve in her body is telling her _bad idea bad idea._

“No I don’t.” She says flatly, pushing him away and straightening her dress. Crowley’s expression goes from pack-leader to wounded. He opens his mouth to say something, but Anna shakes her head, giving him an unreadable smile before walking away and leaving him standing alone.

“I was just kidding..” Crowley calls out, his voice torn between pissed off and upset. “I know you don’t want me.” Anna ignores the pang of remorse in her chest at his tone, so different from what it was a moment ago, but she keeps walking, refusing to look back. Tainted Love is playing out of the stereo and she hears _don’t touch me please I cannot stand the way you tease_.

She finds Castiel in the back garden, sitting with Dean and looking like all of his dreams have just come true. 

“Castiel,” She calls across the garden, trying to get his attention. He glances over at her and smiles a very drunk smile. “I need to talk to you.” She shouts. Castiel looks at Dean and then back at Anna. He wants so badly to stay with Dean, to continue listening to Dean’s hilarious high-school stories, but Anna is his best friend and she looks upset. So he turns to Dean and, God forbid, pulls his shoulder lose.

“I’ll meet up with you later if you like?” He asks, a new level of confidence bubbling inside of him.

“Sure.” Dean gets off the bench and stretches, his suit jacket rising up just enough to flash a strip of bare skin. Castiel doesn’t even try not to stare. “I’m gonna go grab another drink, come find me later.” He gives Castiel a lazy wave and smiles at Anna before disappearing into the kitchen. Castiel walks over to Anna, expecting to see Crowley near-by. She gives him an apologetic smile and hugs him. He hugs her back and gives her a quizzical look. She shrugs, not meeting his eyes.

“I’m gonna go,” She explains. “I think I’ve pissed Crowley off and I’ve had too much to drink and I still have my conclusion to write for my project so... so I’m gonna go. But I want you to stay, have a good time.” Castiel frowns at her, but he knows there’s nothing he can say to change her mind. There never is with Anna.

“Okay. Do you want me to walk you home?” He asks. Anna smiles and shakes her head.

“Lou is getting a cab in a minute, and she lives round the corner from me, so I’m going to hop in with her. Thank you offering, though.”

“Text me when you get home, so I know you’re okay.” Castiel tells her. “Do you need me to go and have a word with Crowley?” He asks, not even half-serious. The idea of Castiel facing up against Crowley is ridiculous, and they both know it.

“No,” Anna laughs, “It’s okay.”

“Tell me what happened.” Castiel says, leading them over the bench that Castiel shared with Dean. Their arms are touching and she leans into him for comfort, but only for a moment; he smells like Dean and beer. She sits up straight, composed. 

“I was kissing him,” Anna explains, “And then he said something really dumb, like ‘I know you want me’ and I just- I don’t know... I couldn’t stand the idea of _Crowley_ kissing me whilst thinking _damn this girl wants me_. I pushed him off and told him I _didn’t_ want him, and he just... he had this look like he was genuinely upset, and as I walked off he said something like ‘I know you don’t want me, I was kidding.’” She pauses to take a breath, gathering herself. Castiel waits. “It was the way he said it, like he actually thinks I hate him or something. I don’t know, I feel like a bad person now.” Anna sighs, looking down into her lap. Castiel wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her into a hug.

“You’re not a bad person, and I’m sure you’ll sort it out. If he likes you as much as he’s letting on, then he’s not going to give up that easy. There’s no shame in playing hard to get.” His voice is low and soothing. She closes her eyes and just lets it wash over her for a moment. Back when they first met, Anna thought they were going to end up dating; Castiel was her ideal guy. She was a little disappointed when she found out he was gay, but now she’s thankful, because if they _had_ dated, she probably would have messed that up, too.

“I don’t want to play hard to get, I just want to have a little self-respect. I don’t expect him to say things like that to me-” Anna suddenly frowns. “But then again, I’ve been telling you that I think _he_ wants _me_ , so how am I any better? Maybe he was just thinking the same thing I was thinking. Oh God, have I messed this up, Cas?”

“Look, I think it was just a misunderstanding, you haven’t messed anything up. You should get some sleep and then try and speak to him tomorrow. Accept his friend request on Facebook and send him a message, why don’t you see if he actually wants to go out, like for a coffee or something?” Castiel suggests.

“That’s not a bad idea actually.” Anna smiles. “I could see if he wants to come to The Coffee Shop tomorrow, because obviously he knows Dean, and you could come with us and it would be like...” Anna doesn’t say the words ‘double date’ but they both know it’s what she’s implying. “It would be cool, and if you’re there it won’t be as intense.”

The girl who must be Lou pops her head outside and shouts over at Anna, telling her that the taxi has arrived. Anna gives Cas one last hug before getting up to leave.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” She says mischievously, “For our double date.”

Castiel goes into the front yard to see Anna into her taxi. Erin Miller, a girl from Castiel’s history class, bounces over to him and asks him if he wants to join her for a drink. He doesn’t see why not, so he spends the next half an hour drinking cocktails in deckchairs with a group of people from his class. The conversation moves fast, but it’s interesting and intellectual. Castiel talks a little, listens, and thinks he might be enjoying himself with these people, most of which he’s never spoken to before. It’s a strange sensation, but for the first time in a long time, Castiel feels like he actually belongs to a particular group of people. It warms him, and there is a small smile on his lips.

Eventually though, the illusion begins to fade, and one by one everyone leaves, until it’s just Castiel and Erin. And he can tell Erin is getting bored with Castiel’s lack of conversational skills. She plays with a plastic cup, kicking it around her chair and staring idly into the sky.

 This is when Castiel excuses himself and makes his way back inside to find Dean. He checks the kitchen first and finds it packed with people who definitely weren’t in there earlier. There is a circle of people playing Ring of Fire with rum and cider, and someone is tugging on Castiel’s sleeve, asking if he wants to join. He spins round to look at the girl and shakes his head. She’s has lipstick smeared down her face and contact lenses that make her look insane.

“No, thank you.” He says dryly, pulling himself out of her grasp and heading back into the living room. Katie, the host, is trying to stop a fight breaking out between two girls dressed as brides. She gives Castiel a fleeting glance and then turns back to the girls. Castiel checks the garden, figuring that maybe Dean went back outside to get some air or something. As he’s making his way back through the kitchen, the lipstick girl grabs his wrist again, pulling him viciously towards the table.

“Come and play, angel boy.” She demands, her uneven voice indicating either a very high level of alcohol or a low level of drugs. Castiel considers playing just so the girl will let go of him. That’s when he sees Dean across the table, a blissful smile on his face as some girl kisses his neck. Castiel can’t help but notice the girl’s hand up Dean’s shirt, the way Dean is leaning into her, the huge smile on his face like there’s nowhere Dean would rather be right now. Disappointment disguised as anger clenches the pit of his stomach. He tries to tell himself that he has no reason, _no reason_ , to feel betrayed. But he can still feel Dean’s warm weight sprawled next to him, the way Dean just made himself comfortable against Castiel like they were best friends, like he belonged there. Castiel’s eyes shade darker as he stares at the girl- looking cheap in a bunny costume- and Dean’s stupid, happy grin.

“Hey!” The lipstick girl suddenly moves in front of his face, following his gaze to the bunny-girl and Dean Winchester. “Stop staring at my best friend, asshole. She’s taken.” She looks furious now, and Castiel doesn’t even try to explain himself; he doesn’t care, he just wants to leave.

“Get off me.” He snaps, dragging  his arm out of lipstick-girl’s grasp. She’s shoots him a glare.

“Learn when you’re not wanted, freak.” She spits, turning back to the table. Castiel recoils from her as though he’s been slapped, and behind her words he can hear every slur that was cast on him as a teenager: fag, freak, loser, and worse. Dean still hasn’t looked away from the girl, still hasn’t noticed Castiel barely a meter away from him. Castiel gives him one last desperate look before grabbing what’s left in the bottle of vodka he brought and swigging it down. It burns his throat and makes him feel instantly sick, but he manages to keep it down long enough to leave the house.

Outside, a girl dressed as Alice in Wonderland and a guy dressed as Shrek are making out against the front door. Castiel almost trips over them on his way out, and he doesn’t bother to apologise when the guy tells him to watch where he’s fucking going. He stumbles up the garden path and tries to control the swimming sensation in his brain. He can’t see straight and he needs to be sick, and he needs to find Anna, and he needs Dean Winchester to stop being so perfect and so god-damn straight. He pulls out his cell phone and tries to call Anna, but he can’t type the numbers in properly and he ends up calling some random guy, who tells him to fuck off. 

So Dean has a girlfriend. Castiel should have seen it coming. Of course he has a girlfriend, he’s beautiful and smart and he’s very good with his hands, not to mention he’s great at lying on people’s shoulders and making them feel lighter than air. Castiel concludes that Dean _deserves_ to have a girlfriend, but he can’t bring himself to believe that any girl in the world would ever be good enough for him. He knows that he would never be good enough for Dean either, because Dean just wouldn’t be happy, which is no surprise because apparently Castiel can’t make _anybody_ happy. Hanna Edison, his first and only girlfriend to date, had told him to stop being a weirdo so that maybe girls would actually like him. She broke up with him after one week. And maybe she was right, maybe Castiel needs to stop being such a walking social disaster.

School was no different. Darren Vaughn had told _everybody_ about that one time that Castiel regrets more than anything in his life. What a lot of his classmates didn’t know was that when they were younger, Darren and Castiel were best friends. Darren chose to leave that bit out though; the only part he spread around school was the part where Castiel tried to kiss him. Conveniently, he also left out the part where Darren had _asked_ Castiel to kiss him. Everyone had laughed at him, had shouted ‘faggot’ at him, one guy even gave him a black eye because of it. All because Darren Vaughn was a liar who used Castiel to cover up his own insecurities. Castiel knows he shouldn’t get so worked up about the past, but he finds himself crying into his hands, sobbing at the memory of being pushed into lockers and tripped up in sport. The jeers and whispers from his classmates, from his _friends_ , the unwanted proposition from jock boys who said they’d “end his gay ass” if he told anyone they’d asked for a blow job. The worst part was the fear. He had nightmares of coming home from school in a body bag. Every day, he expected to be hurt or rejected or shunned, if not beaten and bruised. He’d counted down the days until he could escape to college and get away from the close-minded judgement of his hometown. He’d thought he found a little of himself here, found a bit of peace, but all it took was fucking Dean Winchester with a girl all over him to bring his fragile security crashing down. He’s down Harrison Street now, barely two minutes from his apartment, and he thinks about The Coffee Shop and what Dean would do if he found out about Castiel. He imagines Dean laughing in his face, just like all the other boys had, and that’s when he collapses on the floor in tears.

His phone is ringing and he manages to get it out of his pocket just in time to answer it. It’s Anna, and he’s crying down the phone and he can’t even form the word ‘hello’.

“Oh my God,” Anna says, her voice barely registering in Castiel’s brain because all he can think about is Darren saying ‘I promise I won’t tell anybody, it will be fun, just one kiss.’ Castiel hadn’t even _wanted_ to kiss Darren. He wanted to kiss Elliot Taylor. But Darren was offering and Castiel was kind of figuring out his sexuality, so he just went with it.

“Cas! Answer me, where are you?” She demands, her voice warm with concern.

“Harri- Harrison.” Castiel says between sobs. “I didn’t- I didn’t even want to kiss him, Anna.”

“You kissed him?” Anna’s voice is shocked and confused and Castiel doesn’t know what she’s talking about. He just wants her to come and get him. “What happened? Did he kiss you back?”

“Yes.” Castiel whispers, his voice breaking. “Yes he did but he didn’t tell anybody that, he just- he just said that I came on to him and everybody believed him- he asked me to do it Anna, I didn’t even want to.”

“He asked you to kiss him?” Anna replies, “Oh God, Cas, I’m so sorry I left you! I didn’t think he’d do that. Did he tell everyone?”

“Yes.” Castiel’s voice is barely a whisper. “Yes and it was horrible and some guy I didn’t even know hit me because he said I was staring at him.”

“Someone hit you?” Anna repeats angrily. “Who?”

“I don’t know, it was ages ago.” His voice is broken and he hitches a breath, trying to get back some kind of control.

“How long? I only left an hour ago.” Her tone finally gets to him. It is her ass kicking, not fucking around anymore tone. A frown passes over Castiel’s face.

“What?” Castiel stares at the pavement beneath him, wiping his face and nose on his white t-shirt. “What are you talking about? It was years ago, Anna.”

“What?” Anna asks, confused.

“It was in school, you weren’t there.” Castiel tries to keep himself together but his head is spinning and Anna _wasn’t there._

“You’re not talking about Dean?” She asks.

“What?” Castiel can’t think straight, or see straight, or even be straight. Castiel is so messed up and apparently everybody knows it. “I’m going home... I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Castiel lays out on the pavement, wrapping his arms around himself and staring at the blinking traffic lights ahead. He falls asleep thinking of Darren Vaughn and the way his hands had scratched the back of Castiel’s neck when they kissed. 


	5. Slow Cruel Hands of Time

When Castiel wakes up, the whole world is spinning. He’s on some sort of couch, with a pillow beneath his head and a blanket across his waist. There’s light coming in from a big window and Castiel has to hold his arm in front of his face to stop it blinding him.

“Morning sunshine.” A gravelly voice drawls out from behind Castiel. He wants to turn to see who it is, but he can’t move he head without wanting to vomit, so he tries to remain still.

“Where am I?” He croaks. This is when Crowley bends into view, a cup of tea in one hand and a newspaper in the other. He chuckles at Castiel and sits in the armchair across the room. Castiel gets enough of his vision back to realise he’s at Anna’s apartment. No sign of Anna, though. Just Crowley, casually reading a newspaper and asking Castiel what _he_ did for Halloween. “Why am I here?” Castiel asks, confusion and pain evident on his face. “How did I get here?”

“Calm down party animal, one question at a time.” Crowley smirks. “You’re here because Anna and I were kind enough to come and collect you.”

“From where?” Castiel asks, trying to think back to the previous night. He remembers being in the garden with Dean and then talking to Anna and then- oh yeah, Dean and the bunny-girl. That’s when it all comes back to him, the crying in the street, the blinking of the traffic lights as he fell asleep on the pavement. He groans and covers his face with his hands.

“From the street.” Anna says, finally moving into view, fully dressed and drinking tea. Since when did Anna drink tea? “You were a mess, Cas.” She sits down on the arm of Crowley’s chair, smiling down at him, then turning back to Cas to shoot him a disapproving look. “If you hadn’t have mentioned you were down Harrison, we never would have found you. You could have frozen to death.” Castiel closes his eyes and pulls the blanket over his head. This isn’t the first lecture he’s had from Anna for being a terrible drunk. “You should really learn how to handle your alcohol, I know you were upset about things, but no one can make you feel better if you’re dead.” Anna’s frown turns into a fragile look of concern. “And I’m sorry for lecturing you, but you really scared me last night.” Castiel lifts the blanket away.

“I’m sorry, I drank the rest of my vodka before I left and I shouldn’t have. Thank you for picking me up.”

“It was Crowley who went and looked for you, I was already home and I had no way of getting to you. I managed to get hold of him and he went for a walk down Harrison to find you so he could bring you back here in a taxi.” Anna tells him. Castiel blushes a little, feeling self conscious at the idea of Crowley lifting him into a taxi. What if Cas said something to him? What if Cas mentioned Dean?

“Did I... uh...” Castiel pauses, trying to pick at the right words. “Did I say anything in the taxi? Or at any point?” Crowley gives him a sceptical look.

“You mentioned a guy called Daniel, or Darren, I can’t remember; you wasn’t exactly making much sense.” Crowley says, sipping his tea like a true gentleman. Castiel can’t decide if he hates him or admires him.

“Thank you, for helping me.” Castiel whispers, shooting Crowley what he hopes is a smile. It’s too early and he’s hungover and he knows he should sound more grateful but he really just wants to go back to sleep. This is when Anna decides to pull the blanket off of Castiel’s body. He whimpers and automatically reaches out for it, ignoring the way Anna is shaking her hand like Castiel is some kind of child.

“You can’t stay here forever,” She says, a small smile on her lips to show she does have a _little_ sympathy. “Go and have a shower and I’ll make you some breakfast. It’s two in the afternoon, by the way.” Castiel knows he should follow her advice, and breakfast does sound really nice about now, but he can’t seem to get his legs to co-operate. “We also have a date planned, remember?” Anna’s face suddenly drops as she realises what she’s just said. Whichever way Crowley chooses to take it, it’s going to need some explaining. Castiel stares at her with wide eyes, praying she has some sort of defence lined up. She tilts her head and gives him a reassuring smile as Crowley coughs in the background. Anna has always been a quick thinker. 

“I was talking about me and you; I thought we could bring Cas along, if that’s okay?” She asks brightly. Crowley just shrugs; Cas sees an innuendo or two flit across Crowley’s mind, but he resists, and smiles at Anna instead. Castiel guesses he’s still in the metaphorical doghouse. 

“Sure.” He eventually answers, winking at Castiel in a way that makes Castiel cheeks flare up.

It takes two hours, but eventually Castiel is showered and fed and ready to leave the apartment. He’s starting to feel a little better now he’s got some cereal in him, and he thinks that a caramel cappuccino might just finish the job. So he puts on the only spare clothes he has at Anna’s; a pair of faded jeans and a black Ghostbusters t-shirt he got for Christmas a year ago, and tries to make himself look presentable. His hair is sticking up in the wrong places and he still has that tired, hungover look in his eyes, but he figures it’s the best he can do, and besides, it’s not like Dean is interested. The thought of seeing Dean so soon after last night’s events make him feel a little nauseous, but he really wants a caramel cappuccino and he figures he might as well get the heartbreak over and done with so he can just move on.   

They arrive at The Coffee Shop a little after 4pm, and Dean greets them with a grin and free coffees. Anna insists on paying, just so that Dean doesn’t get in trouble, so Crowley pays for all three. The shop is empty, and by the looks of it, Dean has spent a majority of the day cleaning. All of the counters are gleaming, the stools have had a good wash down, and even the barista machine is shiny and stain-free. Castiel used to feel at home here, but now he feels unwelcome and out of place. He barely looks at Dean, and he doesn’t get that same feeling in his stomach anymore. When Dean sits down next to him, Castiel edges away a little. It’s not that he doesn’t _like_ Dean anymore, he just knows it’s a waste of time, and right now he just doesn’t want to deal with the poignant feelings that it’s giving him. So he stares down into his caramel cappuccino and doesn’t make much of an effort to join in on the conversation. Apparently they’ve all noticed, too.

“What’s up with you today?” Dean asks playfully, nudging him with his shoulder. Castiel looks up and gives Dean a blank look.

“Nothing.” He answers flatly. Anna shoots him a look but he ignores it and goes back to staring into his coffee. So what if he’s being unsocial, he doesn’t want to be here anyway. He’s feeling shitty and emotional. Dean laughs a little, leaning closer to Castiel and trying to get him to smile.

“Cheer up, Cas.” He says softly, and Castiel almost flinches at how sincere Dean sounds. This is going to be so much harder than he thought it would be. He wants to laugh it off and smile and admire how beautiful Dean looks from the side, but he just can’t. He just can’t stop thinking about that girl and how happy Dean looked when-

“So, do you have a girlfriend yet?” Crowley asks right on cue, slowly stirring his coffee with the wrong end of the spoon. “I haven’t seen you bring anyone back to the apartment.” Castiel swallows the lump in his throat and tells himself he can do this, he can handle this. He already knows Dean has a girlfriend so why should it bother him to hear Dean admit it? 

“You know I’m not interested in getting a girlfriend.” Dean says, an easy smile on his lips. Crowley nods as though he understands and Castiel tries not to fall apart. Dean _doesn’t_ have a girlfriend? Why did he say it like that? Why did Crowley even ask? Why does Dean keep looking sideways at Castiel? Why is Anna grinning at them all? He keeps his face blank and tries to rein in the hope that is suddenly wild inside of him. He fails; Crowley’s question and Dean’s answer make him hope, and Anna’s grin only encourages him. Castiel thinks back to the previous night and he’s pretty sure that the lipstick girl said bunny-girl was taken. And bunny-girl was kissing Dean. So surely... but Dean _just_ said... he can’t control the swirl of thoughts going around in his head, throbbing in time to his headache. He can, however, keep his composure, but only just, so he resents Anna’s next suggestion because it throws him completely off balance.

“You know what I think,” Anna says, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table. Crowley glances at her and smiles. “I think we should all go to the cinema and see a scary movie.” Castiel narrows his eyes at her, but her smile is serene. He knows her well enough to know that if she’s smiling like that she’s plotting something. He presses his lips together but her smile doesn’t budge.

“That sounds like fun, huh, Cas?” Castiel looks around and finds two green eyes on him. Dean chuckles and rests his head on Castiel’s shoulder. Crowley and Anna are talking, but Castiel doesn’t hear them. Dean is lying on his shoulder again and Castiel has just gone from depressed to insanely happy in about ten seconds. And Dean _doesn’t_ have a girlfriend. Just that bit of information has made this whole trip worthwhile.

“Caaaa-aaas.” Anna sing-songs his nick name, still smiling, though it’s warmer now.

“Huh?” He answers.

“We we’re just planning a trip to the movies, you’re invited.”  She informs him.

“To see what?” Castiel asks as though this matters. If Dean is going then Castiel is going, end of story. Anna rolls her eyes.

“Paranormal Activity 4, we’ve just said this.” Her tone is annoyed, but her eyes flash kindly at him.

“Oh, okay.” He hates scary movies, but he figures if there is ever a time to make an exception, it’s now. “I’m in.”

The rest of the conversation flows easily, and Castiel laughs and smiles and gestures wildly about an annoying guy in his class called Steve. Dean watches him and on more than one occasion, Castiel catches his eye. He tries not to blush and pretends to be wiping his mouth with a napkin, but Anna is giving him that all-knowing smile, and Castiel ends up having to put his face in his hands to stop anybody asking questions. The walk home is sweet and blissful and Castiel realises for the first time that the sun is shining, and it’s not as bitterly cold as it was yesterday. They have all arranged to meet up at the Odeon at 8.45pm on Friday for the movie, and even though it’s only five days away, Castiel can barely wait.

He turns to Anna and thanks her for her support and help, and he also thanks Crowley too, a little better than his earlier half-assed attempt. Crowley makes some sort of joke about owing him that Castiel doesn’t really get, but he smiles anyway. Just as he’s about to look away, Crowley takes Anna’s hand in his own, and a look of happiness spreads across her face.   


	6. Mutual Attraction

The week goes by swiftly for Castiel, mostly uneventful except that he is buoyed up by the thoughts of the movie on Friday. He tries desperately to keep himself busy, spending extra hours in the library with his literature study group and actually joining in on their discussion of Chaucer. Usually, he would keep quiet and let them do the talking, but confidence bubbles up inside him and he argues convincingly that The Wife of Bath is a proto-feminist work. Everyone falls silent and listens to his explanation, and at the end of it Ben Dowson tells him he’s going to ace the test with theories like that. Castiel suppresses a smile and thinks back to Dean hugging him at the Halloween party.

On Wednesday afternoon his Renaissance Literature workshop is cancelled, so he lies on his bed and stares at his cell. He wants to call Anna, but he knows she’s still in her lecture, so he forces himself to finish his homework on Middle English lyrics instead. Half way through, he loses interest and turns on his computer to read up some reviews for Paranormal Activity 4. When Anna eventually finishes for the day, she drops by Castiel’s apartment, puts on the kettle, and tells him about Crowley. She tells him that Crowley was the one who insisted on going to look for him; she’d contacted him on Facebook, since no one else seemed to be around, telling him she was worried about Cas and wanted to go look for him. Crowley had insisted on going himself, told Anna to stay put, stay safe. Castiel had to laugh at that, though he felt a hot prickle of shame at the thought of Crowley wrestling him into a cab in the dead of night; it’s just that no one ever tells Anna to stay put and stay safe. Anna swats him on his arm for laughing, but there’s a slight tint in her cheeks that suggests that she doesn’t actually mind Castiel laughing, because she finds it ridiculous too.  She leaves some hours later and Castiel falls asleep listening to _The Mamas and Papas._

On Thursday he calls his mom; he hasn’t talked to her in a while and he feels like he should call her. They talk about the usual things: school work, how things are at home, why Castiel doesn’t have a girlfriend, and how _is_ that lovely Anna. His mom had been hinting that he and Anna should be together ever since she first met her. Anna had made cookies out of sheer nervousness, and it had been the exactly right gesture. A little too right, because now Cas’s mom wouldn’t let it go. He sighed.

“She’s seeing someone now.” He said, keeping his tone cheerful. “She’s so happy, and he’s actually kind of a great guy... well, for Anna, anyway.” He closes his eyes against the silence at the other end. He thinks of Dean’s green eyes, warm and laughing, and braces himself for his mother’s next words.

“Well.” She says. “Well. I guess you missed the boat on that one, huh?” She says, trying to keep it neutral, but he can hear the disappointment. He grits his teeth.

“Mom, Anna and I were never… it’s not like that.” He says slowly. “We’re friends. Good friends. And I’m truly happy for her, Crowley’s exactly her type.” His stomach drops because he knows what the next question will be.

“And why, pray, is it ‘not like that’ with you and Anna?” She asks. She is not combative, she just wants to know. He lets out a little laugh, nervous.

“Mom, she’s... I…” He stutters on the words. There is an expectant, knowing silence. He doesn’t want to tell her like this. Not over the phone. It’s only weeks until Christmas break, he can tell her then. He thinks he’s ready. “Mom, it’s just not, okay? We don’t have that kind of chemistry.” He hedges. There is another waiting silence, and then she speaks.

“Castiel, son, I just… I want you to be happy.” She tells him. “I want you to find somebody who makes you happy.” A weight lifts off Castiel’s heart, a weight he hadn’t realized was there. He thinks she knows already, but he wants to tell her himself. Christmas isn’t that far away.

“Thanks, mom.” He says, voice thick. “I’ll be home for Christmas, okay?” After a few more words, they hang up, and Castiel feels lighter. When Anna comes over later, he tells her his plan to come out to his mom over Christmas, though now that he’s had time to think about, dread has been growing in his belly.

“She’s going to be so happy, I just know it.” Anna says, sitting up cross-legged opposite Castiel who has perched himself at the end of his bed with _Chaucer: The Cambridge Companion_ in his lap. Castiel knows she’s right, knows that his mum will be more than happy for him, but he just can’t shake the feeling that something is going to go wrong. “Are you going to tell Michael?” Anna asks, and there it is, there’s the problem. Michael. Is Castiel going to tell his alcoholic, abusive, homophobic, sexist brother that he’s gay? Probably not, no. Anna reads his facial expression and shoots him a sympathetic smile. “You should tell him, he might be alright with it.” Castiel laughs.

“Yeah or he might tear me to pieces.” He croaks, his voice hitching slightly. “It’s better for everyone if Michael never finds out.”

“He’s your brother.” Anna says softly. “Would he really hurt you?” Castiel thinks back to school, back to when he was being bullied and Michael did nothing to stop it. Michael would stand at school gates smoking cigarettes with his friends, ignoring the geeky kid who was being pushed around right in front of him, the geeky kid that was his helpless little brother. He’d wanted more than anything for Michael to step in, to tell the bullies to leave his kid brother alone, because he knows that the bullies would have listened. All Michael had to do was step in just once, and Castiel would have been left alone. But he never did, and Castiel had to suffer because of it. He knows Michael thought it would “toughen him up”, but he’d wished for a compassionate brother instead of an overly macho one. And even now he can’t help resenting it, and knows that Michael hasn’t changed a bit; Michael isn’t the kind to change.

“He’s hurt me in lots of ways.” Castiel says, trying to compose himself. “He’s never physically hit me or anything, but...” He takes a deep breath, remembering Michael’s impassive face while some jock roughed him up. “But there are worse things you can do to someone than hit them.” Anna nods, picking up on Castiel’s tender voice. She changes the subject to her own family, and what she plans on doing for Christmas, and eventually Castiel starts to perk-up again.

They spend the evening going through Anna’s next psychology assignment, trying to figure out exactly what the question means and how Anna should go about tackling it. Anna thinks the question wants her to answer based on her own opinions, but Castiel thinks it means to answer based purely on secondary sources, so they agree to disagree and talk about Dean instead.

“Are you excited for tomorrow?” She asks, lying down on Castiel’s bed with her psychology text book over her chest. Castiel is arranging his books in alphabetical order.

“I’m excited about going, and about seeing Dean, but not about the movie; I’ve read some reviews and it sounds really scary, I’m not good with scary movies.” Castiel says.

“You’ll be fine. You can always hold Dean’s hand if you get scared.” Anna says with a smirk. Castiel pretends to throw a book at her.

“Shut up, I’m not going to hold his hand. I’m going to act like a civilised human being.”

“A civilised human being with a huge boner for Mr. Freckles.” Anna laughs, grinning at the glare Castiel is sending across the room. 

“You are terrible. You are a terrible person, and you’re never going to get into Heaven.” Castiel says, a playful smile on his lips. Anna pretends to look hurt, but instead she gets up and, in relation to nothing they are talking about, hugs him hard. She puts her arms around him and squeezes, and Castiel hugs her back just as fiercely. They may not have the kind of chemistry his mom hoped for, but they still love each other, and he takes comfort in knowing Anna will be behind him, no matter how Christmas goes.

Friday drags, but eventually classes are over and he goes home to change. He pulls on the grey jeans he wore on Halloween and a clinging, slightly over sized t-shirt, hoping he looks okay. Then he heads to Anna’s. She’s getting ready for the date, so he sits down and writes the conclusion to the Oedipus Complex paper she’s working on, or rather, Castiel has been working on. She’s still not ready though, so he begins folding the shirts she threw on the bed while she was frantically trying things on and discarding them, trying to decide what to wear. When she comes out of the bathroom, she sees the neat pile and shoots him a grin.

“You do realize I do it on purpose, don’t you?” She says. “I like how you fold my shirts.” He laughs at her, giving her a nudge when she’s close enough. She nudges back, and picks up the phone to call Crowley. His voice is sleepy, which gives it a rougher, sexier growl, and he says he can’t wait to see her. She smiles into the phone and they chat a few minutes and then hang up.

“He said Dean is excited.” Anna calls out from the kitchen when she goes to iron her shirt. Castiel moves into her front room, sitting cross-legged on the sofa eating chocolate digestives and reading Chaucer. He smiles into his biscuit.

“Why is he excited?” He calls back innocently. He has to keep reminding himself that this _isn’t_ a double date, but every pore in his body is screaming otherwise. Though he’s tried to keep a grip on his dignity where Dean is concerned, he can’t help remembering how Dean’s weight had felt so perfect, so comfortable against his shoulder. How dean would shoot him those little looks while making coffees, a secret half smile on his lips if he was making a caramel cappuccino. How his green eyes had glowed with warmth and amusement when he’d coaxed Cas into seeing this movie.  And now Dean is excited. And Dean is not interested in having a girlfriend. 

“Probably because he’s going to be seeing your sweet little face.” Anna answers, popping her head around the door and grinning at him. He keeps his eyes on the book, feeling a blush creeping into his cheeks. “Do you want a cup of tea before we leave?” Castiel shuts his book, knowing there’s no way he’s going to be able to concentrate on it now that the double date is only half an hour away.

“No thank you. If you’re having one then be quick because we don’t want to be late.” Castiel says, frowning at how much he sounds like his mother. Anna decides to skip the tea and orders them a cab to the theatre. It arrives late, but they manage to get there before Dean and Crowley anyway. Castiel is picking at the hem of his jacket and Anna swats his hand away, telling him to relax.

They stand outside the cinema complex and Castiel looks at the movie posters, tracing his finger along the text. He is in the middle of telling Anna about the reviews when Crowley and Dean step out of the parking lot. Crowley is wearing his usual black-jeans-black-shirt combo, and Dean is in a pair of casual jeans with a black Led Zeppelin top. Castiel suddenly feels nervous about his own clothes and wonders if Dean will find it weird that he’s wearing 50% of his Halloween costume.

“Castiel.” Crowley nods his head towards Castiel, hands deep in his pocket. He remains straight-faced until he turns to Anna, and Castiel can see the corners of his mouth curling just at the sight of her. “Anna.”

“Crowley.” Anna smiles and pressing their lips together. They hold each other’s gaze for a few seconds before Crowley is interrupted by Dean’s laughter.

“Come on Romeo, let’s go in.” Dean says, rolling his eyes and turning to Cas to smile at him. “Hey caramel cappuccino, you feeling better? You seemed pretty down on Sunday.” Castiel bites his bottom lip to stop himself grinning like an idiot and nods.

“Yeah, much better thanks; I think I was just hung over.” They follow Anna and Crowley into the cinema and wait in line to pay for their tickets.

“So what happened to you on Saturday night?” Dean asks, a serious look in his eyes. “I was looking for you but I couldn’t find you.” Castiel’s eyes widen. Dean was _looking_ for him, as in going out of his way to find Castiel because he... well...

“Why?” Castiel finds himself asking, his tone more blunt than he intended. He realises how strange this question sounds after he’s already asked it. Dean looks a little taken aback.

“Why was I looking for you?” Dean says, making sure he heard Castiel right. “Because... I wanted to see you, I guess.” His voice is soft and a little confused and Castiel feels like an idiot.

“I wanted to see you too.” He says quickly, blushing at his own words and trying not to stare at Dean’s mouth. “I left because...” Castiel thinks back to why he left and decides it’s probably best if he doesn’t tell Dean the whole truth. “Because I needed to um- I needed to do... assignments, and stuff.” Dean gives a small chuckle and shakes his head; it’s obvious that he knows Castiel is lying, and Castiel just wants to rewind and start this whole conversation again.

“Assignments?” Dean repeats, cocking his head to one side and giving him a sceptical look. “If you didn’t want to hang out with me, it’s cool, I won’t take it personally.” Castiel is struggling to breathe because no, no, no, and no.

“It’s not that at all.” Castiel says, his voice hitching. “I just... I saw you...” Castiel sighs, realising that he either needs to tell Dean the truth or have Dean think he hates him. “I saw you with a girl and I figured you probably didn’t want to be interrupted. And I didn’t really know anyone else there so I just left.” A look of guilt spreads across Dean’s face. Castiel wants to kiss it all away.

“I’m sorry.” Dean says softly, and Castiel can’t help but take it straight to his heart, because Dean doesn’t even need to apologise, at all, but he is and Castiel just wants him so badly. “I was drunk and when I’m drunk I get...” Dean laughs to himself, clearly uncomfortable and self-conscious. “When I’m drunk I’m needy, so...” Dean trails off and Castiel shoots him a sympathetic smile.

“It’s okay, I get it.” He answers. And he does get it, because he’s needy too, and when he’s drunk he starts thinking about things that he knows will upset him, but he can’t stop it, and he can’t stop himself from wanting Dean and wanting Dean’s attention. And Dean wants attention too, and Castiel wasn’t there, but what if he had been? Would Castiel have been the one kissing his neck? The thought somehow upsets him, because he doesn’t just want to be a pawn, he wants to _mean_ something. They are almost at the front of the queue when Dean smiles at him. Castiel notices how Dean is only a few inches taller than him, and how if they hugged, Castiel would fit snug into Dean’s neck. And then Castiel remembers that they _did_ hug, and he feels warm again.

They pay for their tickets and Anna makes sure that she and Crowley lead the way so that Dean and Cas end up sitting together. Castiel makes a mental note to thank her later. They find seats at the back of the theatre and wait for the trailers to roll. Castiel is sitting on the end of the row, with Dean on his right followed by Crowley and then Anna. They pass a box of popcorn amongst themselves and laugh at how cheesy some of the trailers look. Crowley makes a comment about an actress he finds attractive but Dean disagrees.

“I just don’t see it. I mean she’s definitely not ugly, but I can’t say I’m attracted to her.” Dean says, narrowing his eyes at the screen. Crowley gives him a self-satisfied look.

“There’s a surprise.” He says, the statement rolling off his tongue as though this is something they joke about on a regular basis. Dean glares at him and Anna rolls her eyes. Castiel feels a shiver run down his spine, but he stays still and tries to remain stoic.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Dean asks, a little irritated.

“You know what it means.” Crowley answers, staring straight ahead. Dean begins to look uncomfortable, and Crowley quickly laughs it off. “It just means you don’t like blondes.” Dean gives him a look, but he seems to relax again and within minutes it’s as if nothing was ever said.

The movie starts and Castiel finds himself closing his eyes before anything has even happened. He jumps and bites his tongue when the demon child pops out, but he pulls his knees up to his chest and tries to stay quiet. Crowley and Dean seem to be loving it, and Anna has her head buried in Crowley’s shoulder, so Castiel figures she’s having the same reaction that he is. About half way through Castiel feels like he cannot watch anymore, and simply rests his head on his knees. Dean glances over at him and puts a hand on his knee. Castiel jumps at the contact.

“I’m so sorry!” Dean whispers, trying not to laugh at Castiel’s reaction. “I didn’t mean to make you jump, I was just gonna ask if you’re okay.” Castiel blushes a little and looks at Dean hand, which is still on his knee.

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, well, no. I don’t like scary movies.” Castiel explains quietly. Dean frowns.

“We didn’t have to see a scary movie, we could an action film or something.” Dean offers, and Castiel leaves out the part where he doesn’t like action movies either.

“It’s okay, you all wanted to see this. I can deal with it.” Castiel tries not to focus on the fact that Dean’s hand is _still_ on his knee. But it is, and it feels great. Dean looks a little lost for a second, his gaze lingering on the side of Castiel’s face, and then suddenly he turns and goes back to watching the film, taking his hand with him. Castiel watches out of the corner of his eye as Dean swallows awkwardly. And then something happens, because something is groping around on Castiel’s chair, and something is feeling for his hand, and then something is lacing its fingers in between Castiel’s fingers, and that something is Dean.

Dean is holding Castiel’s hand. Dean has his fingers in between Castiel’s fingers, and Dean is _stroking_ Castiel’s skin with his thumb. The gesture is hidden away safely in the darkness between their chairs, but Castiel can _see_ it, he can physically see Dean holding his hand, and on the screen someone is screaming and crying and Castiel is biting the inside of his mouth to keep himself together. He can feel the warmth and softness of Dean’s hand in his own, and he feels protected. Because Dean Winchester is holding his hand and this is so much more than Castiel ever expected to happen, and he doesn’t know what to do, or how to take it. He doesn’t know if this means something, or if it’s just a simple friendly gesture because Castiel is scared. Will they need to talk about it? Will Castiel have to admit that he’s been pining over Dean for months now? Will Dean pretend it never happened? Are they going to hold hands until the end of the movie? And what about afterwards? Will Dean acknowledge that it happened? Castiel’s mind is buzzing with questions, but he pushes them to one side and focuses purely on the fact that right now he’s holding hands with Dean Winchester.

After what feels like barely a few minutes, the movie ends and the lights come on. Dean is still holding Castiel’s hand, and Castiel doesn’t dare move. Dean looks at him and Castiel must be insane because he swears that Dean was looking directly at his _mouth_. But he does a little cough and slowly takes back his hand. Castiel feels his insides whimper at the loss on contact, but he tells himself it doesn’t matter, because it _happened_.

Anna and Crowley are already discussing the best parts of the movie, so Dean and Castiel get their jackets on and start to head down the steps. Anna manages to push forward into Cas, and gives him a hug from behind, asking him if he managed not to piss his pants out of fear. Castiel rolls his eyes and lays his head back on her shoulder. This is when they realise how bad this must look to Crowley and quickly break away. Castiel is relieved when he turns and sees Dean and Crowley still at the top of the steps, talking in hushed voices. Castiel turns to Anna, unable to contain himself any longer.

“He held my hand.” He says excitedly. Anna’s mouth drops.

“He held your hand?” She repeats, a huge smile spreading across her face. “Oh my _God_ , Cas! This is actually happening, something is actually happening!” Castiel beams into his hands because as much as he doubts himself and as much as he doubts his ability to ever function as a normal human being, he knows Anna is right. Guys don’t just hold other guy’s hands at scary movies. Not guys they’ve only just started getting to know. Dean held Castiel’s hand because he was making a statement. Because he wanted Castiel to know that he’s in this too, that maybe, just maybe, the feeling is mutual.


	7. Secrets

Somewhere in the rain on the walk back to the bus station, Crowley suggests they all go for a drink. Castiel has his hands in the pockets of his hoodie and Anna is talking to him about her theories on Freud. Castiel knows a fair amount on Freud from studying his influence on English Literature, but not the extent that Anna wants to talk about it, so he settles with just listening to her arguments and trying not to look over at Dean. Crowley mentions going for a drink again, but no one answers him.

“I’ll just talk to myself then.” Crowley says sharply, clearly not used to being ignored. Castiel remembers that he said something about a drink. “Seeing as you two are deep in discussion and Dean is dancing around in fairy land.” Crowley nods towards Dean, who is staring ahead of himself, eyes unfocused. Anna refrains from rolling her eyes and kisses Crowley on the cheek. His hard expression softens a little. Castiel’s gaze wonders to Dean’s wet hair, and the small droplets of rain dripping down his face.

“We would love to go for a drink, right?” She looks over Castiel, who shrugs and nods. He’s not alcohol’s biggest fan after what happened last week, but he guesses if Dean is going and Dean gets needy on alcohol, then Castiel might want to stick around. His mind flashes back to the party and Dean laying all over him.

Dean sighs, a torn look on his face.

“That sounds awesome, but I’ve been letting my work build up and I promised myself I’d start on it tonight. Plus I have work tomorrow morning.” Dean explains. Anna gives him a disappointed look.

“But it’s the weekend! Can’t you change your shift?” She asks. Castiel pretends not to look so invested in the conversation, but he really _really_ wants Dean to come out for a drink, and for a whole number of reasons. First, he wants to have a drink with Dean. Second, he wants Dean to be drunk so maybe he will have more confidence to do something, and most of all, he doesn’t want to play third wheel to Anna and Crowley.

“My boss is a jerk; he doesn’t let me change my shifts without at least three days notice. I’m at work at 8am, and then I have a meeting with my PYT at lunch. I’m going to be busy most of the day, and on Sunday I’m working again, so tonight is really my only night to catch up.” Dean says, looking a little guilty. Castiel tries not to feel disappointed; he can still go out with his friends and have a good time, and he knows he’ll see Dean on Sunday anyway.

“We can all go out another night?” Anna suggests, looking between Crowley and Dean. Dean shakes his head.

“It’s fine, you guys go have a good time, and we can just arrange to do it again on a night when we’re all free.”

“That sounds good to me.” Anna smiles. 

Castiel knows he should listen to his brain, which is angrily telling him _chill out_ , but now he’s thinking back to the movie and whether he actually massively misinterpreted the hand-holding. Maybe Dean _was_ just being friendly; maybe he’s just like that.

Castiel is deep in thought when Dean suddenly stops, making some sort of comment about parting ways. Castiel swallows the lump in his throat and tries to clear his mind; Dean Winchester held his hand in the movie, and that has to mean something, surely. 

“I’ll see you guys soon, have a good time tonight.” Dean says with a smile, eyes seemingly avoiding Castiel. Anna says goodbye and Crowley gives him a short nod. Castiel waits for it, for the little extra bit where Dean addresses him separately, he waits for it but it never comes, and Dean is waving and crossing the road and telling Crowley he’ll see him later, and then he’s around the corner and gone. Castiel stares at the empty space where Dean Winchester was standing only a minute ago. Anna tugs on his sleeve and after a second of hesitation, he starts walking again.

Okay so Dean doesn’t want to go out for a drink with them and now he doesn’t say goodbye to Cas separately. Maybe Castiel is getting worked up and over thinking it, because Dean _did_ say that he had work to do, and maybe he just wants to get home quickly because of the rain and the cold. Or maybe he doesn’t want to drink with them and maybe he ignored Castiel for a reason.

“I think I’m going to go home.” Castiel says quietly. “The rain is getting heavier and I don’t really want to stay out in these clothes.” He gestures down to his perfectly acceptable jeans and t-shirt, which aren’t even that wet. Anna gives him a look that says she knows what he’s thinking, and Castiel tries to silently apologise for bailing on her. He knows she will understand, though.

Castiel, Anna, and Crowley part ways in the town centre. Anna gives him a hug and whispers in his ear that he should stop freaking out, and that Dean is just busy, that’s all. Castiel offers her a reassuring smile and promises to go home and watch some shit TV, rather than fret about Dean. Anna gives him one last squeeze before Castiel takes off in the opposite direction to his apartment.

When Castiel is completely out of sight, Crowley takes a small breath and turns to Anna, an unreadable expression on his face.

“I know we aren’t _official_ or anything, but...” Crowley has a pained look on his face and Anna feels herself tensing up; she’s never seen him look this serious before. “If you’re in love with Castiel, why are you seeing me?” Anna has to stare at him for a few seconds before she realises that he isn’t joking.

And it all comes down at once. She thinks about all of the hugs she shares with Castiel, the secret little moments where they sneak off to talk about Dean, the amount of times Anna has asked if Castiel can come along on their little outings, and she thinks about what this must look like to Crowley. She sees herself through Crowley’s eyes and she almost can’t understand why he hasn’t brought this up sooner. She feels guilty and angry and annoyed for letting it go this far, for not explaining to Crowley sooner. The fact that Crowley has brought it up makes her feel worse, because Crowley is the definition of a free spirit, and for him to bring it up as a genuine issue means it’s actually been _worrying_ him. Anna wants to hit herself for being so careless.

“I’m so sorry.” Anna says quickly, not knowing where to start. “I’m not in love with Castiel. He’s my best friend, that’s all... and I know... I know it seems like it’s more than that, but it’s not.” Anna bites her bottom lip, stopping the truth from spilling out. She’s pretty sure that Castiel would never speak to her again if she let out his secret, especially to Crowley. But how else is she supposed to explain herself? “You just have to believe me.” Crowley gives her a hard look, obviously searching her expression for any hint that she might be lying. Anna knows that it’s something they were taught to do right from their first psychology lesson, so she lets him have his moment. After a few second, he lets out a small sigh of relief and takes her hand again.

“I do believe you. I just... you two are really close and I wasn’t... I wasn’t sure.” Crowley admits, a guilty look in his eyes. Anna squeezes his hand and smiles back at him, reassured by the fact that one day Crowley will know the truth, and then all of this won’t seem so bad. “Let’s go get a drink.” He says brightly, dropping the serious tone and slipping back into the Crowley that Anna has come to love.

They decide to go to a small bar not far from campus called ‘The Swan’. It’s fairly busy and lively and apparently Crowley used to come here for his Rock Society socials.

“I didn’t even know you were in the Rock Society.” Anna says with a small laugh, perching herself on a stool at the bar. Crowley winks at her.

“I was for about a month, but I couldn’t stand the people who were in it. You know how I am when it comes to _socialising_ , especially with Neanderthals like them.” Crowley cocks his head slightly, a smug smile tugging at his lips. Anna laughs and kisses him on the mouth. “What you having?” He asks, pulling out a twenty dollar bill.

“I’ll have a vodka and coke, please.” Anna says sweetly. She’s only 20, but Crowley is two years older than her and no one ever asks him for I.D anyway. In this area of town, most of the bars don’t care either way. The bartender hands over a double vodka with coke and a pint of Heineken and moves on to the next customer.

After only an hour, Anna finds herself on her sixth drink, now sipping on a Pink Lady cocktail. She’s  trying to keep up with Crowley, who easily downs his seventh pint and then goes to the bar to get another. They’ve moved over to a table in the corner of the pub where it’s quieter and they can hear each other. He comes back with a Jack Daniel’s and coke for himself and a Tutti Frutti cocktail for Anna. Anna gives him a glare that he casts away by kissing her on the mouth for a few seconds.

“You know,” Anna begins, slouching over the table and resting her face on her hand. “I honestly never thought I’d end up dating you, I mean I _hated_ you.” Crowley laughs and lets her have a sip of his Jack Daniel’s and coke. It tastes like fire and she immediately hates it, but she swallows it all the same and tries not to grimace.

“You don’t like it.” Crowley states, leaning over and tucking a stray red hair behind her ear. Anna smiles and leans into his touch.

“I like you.” She says, a slightly slur in her voice. “I like you a lot.” Crowley tries to remain stoic, but the alcohol loosens him up and he finds himself grinning at Anna like an idiot.

“I like you too.” He purrs. “Which is why you should be my girlfriend; I _have_ stayed over almost every night this week.” Anna wraps her arms around his shoulders and pulls him into a hug. She smiles as she pulls away, licking her bottom lip sub-consciously.

“But there’s still so much I don’t know about you.”

“What do you want to know?” He asks slowly, wrapping both hands around his glass and staring into the grain of the table. Anna starts to get giddy with excitement.

“Everything! Why do you always wear black? What is your family like? Every time I bring it up you don’t want to talk about it, but I want to _know_ you, the good _and_ the bad.” Crowley cocks a small smile, but Anna can tell -- even though the alcohol -- that it’s anything but genuine.

“Well my name is Fergus Crowley, but, as you’ve probably noticed, I respond to ‘Crowley’ _only_ ; Fergus was my father’s name and-” Crowley takes a second to compose himself. Anna has never seen him less that 100% self-assured, so it unsettles her a little. “And he was a pathetic little man.”

“How?” Anna asks softly, hoping she’s not over-stepping the boundary.

“He was always sick, or at least pretended to be, and he would make my mother do everything for him. She worked, she looked after the children, she looked after the house, she did everything. He would gamble away whatever money we did have, and when it came to the children he didn’t give a rat’s ass.”Crowley scowls into his drink and Anna places her hand on his knee.

“What happened?”

“We left him, eventually. My mother finally saw what he was doing to our family and kicked him out. I don’t know what happened to him and I don’t care. He took everything he could from us; he never worked a day in his life.”

“So that’s why you’re so strong.” Anna says, mostly to herself. “Because your father was weak and you don’t want to end up like him.” Crowley takes a long swig of his drink, slamming the empty glass on to the table.

“I will _never_ end up like him.” He says sternly. 

“What are your sisters like? Do you get along with them?” Anna asks, turning the conversation to something more positive.

“Lilith is only eight, so she’s the baby of the family. Then there’s Megan and Ruby, Megan is 12 and Ruby has just turned 17. I helped my mom raise them, especially Megan and Lilith, so I feel I have a strong bond with them. And Ruby grew up in the same environment I did, so we can relate to each other. I get on with Ruby the best; she’s the most like me.” Crowley smiles a little. Anna can’t help but imagine a teenager dressed in black with a rough, gravelly voice who gets her kicks out of sarcasm and making people feel uncomfortable. She smiles at the thought. 

“Do you speak to them a lot? Like on the phone?”

“I see them at Christmas and on holidays, and my mom usually rings every couple of weeks to see how I’m doing. Ruby calls a lot, and we text, too. I speak to Megan and Lilith on the phone when my mom calls.” Crowley says, idly running his finger around the rim of the glass. “What are your family like?”

“They’re just the average kind of family, I guess.” Anna says with a shrug, one end of the straw in her Tutti Frutti cocktail and the other end in her mouth. “I have a brother called Zach, he’s 27 and he lives in New York because he works for this big business company, they sell security and insurance to other businesses. My mom and dad are still happily married, they live in Ottawa. You live in Paola right? That’s only a forty minute drive from Ottawa.”

“Yeah,” Crowley nods, a suggestive look brightening his eyes. “I could come and visit you in the holidays, if you’re not too busy.” Anna leans in for a kiss.

“That would be nice.” She says as Dean Winchester walks up behind her and places a hand on her shoulder.

“Hello lovebirds.” He says with a smile, sitting down and nodding his head at Crowley. “I thought I’d find you in here.”

“Dean!” Anna beams, “You made it, I thought you were busy?”

“I rushed to get it done so I could come out for a drink.” Dean lies. There was never any work; he just needed some time to think things through, to work out what was going on his head and why he was so attracted to Castiel. After an hour of lying on his bed staring up at his ceiling, he still hadn’t come up with an explanation, so he figured he would just ride the waves and see where they took him. “I’d have called but I’ve lost the charger for my cell and it’s dead. Where’s Cas? He in the bathroom or something?” Dean looks around expectantly. Anna stays quiet and looks at Crowley.

“Oh he didn’t come.” Crowley says with a wave of his hand. “He said he didn’t want to come out in wet clothes or something. The guy’s a little odd if you ask me.” Anna slaps him playfully on the arm and he winks at her in return, making it clear that’s he’s only joking. “I’ll go get some more drinks, everyone okay with shots?”

Crowley disappears into the crowd that are surrounding the bar and Anna can’t help but notice the look of disappointment on Dean’s face. “I can call him?” She suggests, already pulling out her cell to contact Castiel. Dean shakes his head.

“It’s okay, he’s probably busy.” Dean says unconvincingly. Anna almost laughs.

“If he knows you’re here he’ll probably come down.” She says without thinking. “Honestly, I’ll just send him a text and let him know.” She looks down at her cell and suddenly feels the chill of the silence radiating from Dean. She looks up at him and meets his steady gaze.

“Why would he come down just because I’m here?” Dean asks flatly. Anna stares into her empty glass and tries to clear her head, but she’s had too many drinks and she’s maybe just ruined everything and now Castiel is going to hate her and her brain is telling her to _stop talking_. But the silence is worse, and it’s saying everything that Anna should _not_ be saying.

“Well you guys are friends, aren’t you?” She states with a small laugh. “I mean he probably didn’t want to come because he thought it would be awkward if it was just the three of us, but if you’re here then he might be okay...” Anna trails off, praying she’s picked the right words and saved her own ass. Luckily, Dean buys it.

“Yeah, I see what you mean.” He answers, his eyes floating across the room to where Crowley is walking back with a tray of six shot glasses. Anna drops the conversation and picks up a shot of vodka, downing it easily and going straight for her second. A look of relief glosses her eyes.

By midnight, all three of them are horrifically drunk. It turns out that Dean can be a lightweight on the right alcohol, and Crowley teases him to no end about it, but Dean counters it with stories of Crowley’s mischievous and slightly illegal adventures that Anna didn’t know about.

“In our first year,” Dean laughs, gripping his pint and spilling some on to the table. “In our first year, Crowley would set up all of these pranks for us, mainly for Josh because he didn’t like Josh very much... none of us liked Josh very much... but Crowley would actually go out and buy the kind of clothes that Josh used to wear – he was a jock so he dressed like a douche – and then he would sit next to Josh in the living room and impersonate him, but Josh was too damn stupid to realise, and Crowley would be sitting next to him, dressed in clothes that were identical to Josh’s style, and he would be talking in this stupid high-pitched voice that Josh used to speak in and it was _hilarious_. He would do this all year and Josh didn’t realise until about a month before we finished the last semester.”

Crowley laughs along to Dean’s stories, confirming and denying certain parts that had obviously been lost to Dean’s imagination. Anna finds herself in hysterics, listening to a story about Dean and Crowley being attacked by a rogue-bat outside their first student accommodation.

“It was something from fucking, _Bat Attack!_ ”Crowley shouts, his cheeks colouring from all the alcohol. He doesn’t even bother denying that he’s drunk anymore. “That bat was out to get us, right from the day we moved in.” He waves his hands around in enthusiasm and ends up knocking over two empty glasses, sending one of them crashing to the floor and smashing it. He curses loudly and goes over to find someone who can give him something to clear it up. Anna bites her bottom lip and frowns when she can’t feel anything. This is how she tests herself to see if she’s drunk or not. Her whole face feels numb and she feels light and happy and giddy, so she figures she’s pretty far gone.

“So, Dean,” She says in a sing-song voice, “Dean, Dean, Dean. Tell me; what is your most _favooooourite_ thing about Castiel, out of _all_ the amazing things about him, what do you love most?” Dean blushes a little and looks around the room awkwardly

“I don’t- I don’t even know why you’re asking me that. I don’t even know that much about him. I wish I knew more.” He says innocently, staring across the room and blowing air up into his fringe.

“What do you want to know? I can tell you _anything_ in the world – well maybe not anything, there’s some things he would _kill_ me for telling you.” Anna grins. Dean looks a little suspicious but laughs anyway.

“Where does he live? I know he lives on campus but I don’t know where.” He asks a little too quickly.

“He lives on Fairmount Road, off Harrison and Cooper. Number 112, and he lives alone too.” She adds for extra measure. She’s pretty sure she’s the best friend in the world right now because she’s totally going to get Dean and Castiel together even if it kills her. “His name is pretty strange too, isn’t it? But it suits him; a strange name for a strange boy. Well he’s not that strange, but he _is_ funny, and he’s so smart, you know?”

“I know.” Dean agrees with a small chuckle. “He told me he does most of your essays for you.” Anna opens her mouth in shock.

“He does _not_. He’s such a liar. What other lies has he told you?” Anna smirks. Dean leans back in his chair and puts his arms behind his head, clearly thinking about all of things Castiel has told him in the past.

“He told me he doesn’t have a girlfriend.” Dean says cautiously. “True or false?” Anna laughs loudly and looks at Dean as though he’s just asked the most stupid question _ever_.

“Are you being serious?” She asks, her eyes wide with humour and shock and confusion because how the hell can Dean even be unsure about that. “He’s gay; of course he doesn’t have a girlfriend!” She slaps her hand over her mouth and stares at Dean, hoping and praying that that didn’t just happen and she didn’t just say what she thinks she did.

“Oh.” Dean says, his voice hitching and his eyes staring intently at Anna, who is so _so_ dead. “I didn’t know.” There’s a moment’s silence, and then Crowley re-appears with a barmaid, who sweeps up the broken glass and takes it away whilst Dean and Anna continue to stare at the table in silence. Crowley glances at them both with questioning eyes but the conversation is dropped. 


	8. Liar Liar

Castiel gets a phone call at 2:11am. He blinks a few times, feeling disorientated and unable to find his cell phone in the dark. His hands scramble under his pillow and eventually wrap around the phone. He lays his head back on the pillow.

“Hello?” He mumbles, praying it isn’t his mother with bad news. No one ever calls at 2am with good news.

“Caaaaaaas!” It’s Anna, and she’s obviously very intoxicated. He can hear Crowley talking in the background and it sounds like she’s in a pub.

“Hi, Anna.” Castiel answers with a sigh. He really doesn’t need this right now; he’s tired and he wants to go back to sleep. “Are you okay?”

“No.” Anna says, but the giddy tone suggests otherwise. Castiel can’t work out if she’s joking or not. “I did something bad, and I’m drunk, and I know it’s not an excuse but please don’t hate me.” Castiel rolls his eyes and pulls the duvet over his face. He figures she’s probably had an argument with Crowley or something, or she spilt a drink over someone and got herself thrown out. Anna doesn’t have a bad bone in her body, so he knows it’s not going to be anything serious.

“Did you fight with Crowley?” He asks, his tone implying that he’s not going to be angry with her if she did. He doesn’t want to talk it through with her _right_ _now_ , but he figures he can give her a minute or two to explain.

“Dean is here.” Anna says, trying to change the conversation. Castiel smiles to himself because if Anna can’t even bring herself to mention Crowley then they _obviously_ had a fight. And then he takes in what she’s just said. Dean is there.

“What?”

“Dean is here. He was asking after you, you should have come out.” Anna says loudly. “He was asking all these things about you and he asked me if you had a girlfriend... and I’m so sorry Cassie, I just- I said that...” Castiel swallows the lump in his throat, is she saying what he thinks she’s saying? She told Dean that her and Castiel were together? She told Dean that Cas has a girlfriend? This leads on to a whole new realm of questions. Why did Anna even say that in the first place, does she actually, after all this time, have a secret crush on Castiel? And what did Crowley say- “Cassie? Are you there?”

“Yeah.” Castiel whispers, closing his eyes in despair. He really doesn’t want to hear this. “What happened, Anna?”

“I told Dean you don’t have a girlfriend…” Anna says apologetically, and Castiel is very, very confused. “…Because you’re gay.” 

“You… you told him?” Castiel repeats, his voice catching in his throat. Anna starts saying something but Castiel feels a sudden sense of fear and hangs up the phone. This cannot be happening, not again. People finding out that Castiel is gay has never ever lead to good things, it’s lead to bullying and humiliation and depression, and Castiel cannot go through that again. So he turns his cell onto silent and closes his eyes and pretends that all of this is a dream, that Anna did not just betray him and his one secret that he’s still very insecure about. Because yes, he may _act_ like he’s totally self-accepting and cool with it, but he’s really not. He still worries about his future and how his family will react; he’s worried about never being able to have children, or never finding a partner. Most of all, he’s worried about people finding out, because then he gets judged. And Dean Winchester was the first guy that Castiel has ever felt he might have a slither of a chance with, and now that’s ruined, because Anna got drunk and told Dean and now Dean is probably never going to talk to him again. So yeah, Anna has ruined everything.

The next time Castiel wakes up, someone is banging on his front door. His room is still bathed in darkness, and he can see between the crack of his curtains that it’s still the middle of the night. This is when his stomach flips and his first conscious thought is _Dean Winchester_ _is at my door_. He flies out of bed and throws on his navy blue dressing gown, rushing downstairs to the door and pulling it open even though he doesn’t have the slightest idea what he’s actually going to say. All he knows is this is Dean Winchester and-

It’s not Dean Winchester. It’s Anna, and her expression is very, very annoyed. She’s breathes heavily and presses both hands against the door frame. Castiel stares at her in shock. “I know I shouldn’t have told him, and I’m really sorry, but you didn’t have to hang up on me, we’re supposed to be best fucking friends Castiel.” No one else is with her, so Castiel pulls her into the apartment and shuts the door behind her. The moment he turns around she’s in his face. “I told Dean okay, but so what, it’s not like it’s a secret, he held your fucking hand obviously there’s feelings between you so why am I the bad guy for just confirming that you’re gay?“

“Anna.” Castiel interrupts, sighing. “You’re drunk, just go home.” Anna inhales and gives Castiel her most angry glare.

“I’ve just walked all the way across campus because I’m pissed off with you; don’t tell me to _go home_ , why don’t _you_ go home!”

 “Why are you pissed off with me?” Castiel asks, clearly surprised and a little bit annoyed because unless something happened in his sleep, he’s pretty sure Anna is the one who should be apologising after what she did. “You’re the one who told Dean even though I didn’t want him to know yet!”

“Why not?” Anna asks with a spiteful laugh. “You’re like a child, just grow some fucking balls.” Castiel tries not to let it show, but he takes it like a kick in the teeth.

“I think you should go.” He says, turning back to open the door for her, but Anna storms into the living room, pulling off her heels and throwing them on the sofa. Castiel reluctantly follows her, dreading what verbal abuse she’s got lined up for him. In the whole year and a half they’ve been friends, he’s never once experienced this side of her, and it makes him question whether he really knows her as well as he thinks he does.

Anna is standing in the middle of his living room, her fiery hair bouncing across her shoulders in an angry mess. “So this how it’s going to be is it? Every time I say the wrong thing in front of Dean you’re going to hang up on me and pretend I don’t exist anymore? I called you back _seven_ times. It’s obvious were your priorities lie, but I really didn’t think you’d show it this soon, I mean you’re not even with the guy, and I’m supposed to be your best friend!” Anna’s breath catches in a hiccup, and Castiel doesn’t know if she’s going to continue to shout at him, or fall to her knees and cry. For some reason, he doesn’t care.

“You are my best friend!” Castiel replies,  getting more irritated by the second. “Stop trying to turn this round to make _me_ look like the bad guy, _you_ told Dean, and I didn’t want you to. You may think you know everything about my sexuality, but you _don’t_. If I wanted Dean to know, I would have told him, it’s as simple as that. But I _didn’t_ want him to know, not yet, and you took that right from me. So yes, I was angry and I hung up on you, so what.” Castiel answers sharply, completely surprising himself with his own reaction. Anna laughs and narrows her eyes at him.

“You held his hand in the cinema!” She replies emphatically, “I think he knows you’re gay, and I think he’s okay with that. You’re being over-dramatic.” Castiel just wants to stop shouting, and he wants to stop arguing because this is Anna and he loves Anna, but he can’t handle her when she’s drunk and he knows that he’s going to regret everything he says by the morning. Yet he still can’t help himself responding, because he’s been so used to just letting people walk all over him that he can’t do that anymore. He physically finds himself moving forward defensively, because he is 21 years old and he will _not_ be bullied _again_.

“I’m the one being over-dramatic?” Castiel repeats with a laugh, “You _walked across campus_ to shout at me, just because I hung up on you.” Anna puts her hands on her hips.

“I tried calling you back, like seven times! You ignored me every time, and I hadn’t even done anything wrong! Dean _already_ knew, he _must_ have done, I just accidentally confirmed it, and if you were a real friend, you would have told me it was fine.”

“I guess I’m not a real friend then.” Castiel bites back, sitting on the arm of his sofa.

“You prioritize what Dean might think of you over what _I_ might think of you, and that’s _wrong_ , and it fucking hurts.” Anna says, bringing down the tone of her voice with a sigh. Castiel doesn’t bite the bait, and he already has a comeback before she’s finished speaking.

“You prioritise Crowley; you left me at the Halloween party by myself. What if Dean wasn’t there? I would have been standing on my own the whole time you were down Crowley’s throat. And then you left early because of a stupid argument you had with him, in case you’ve forgotten, you went to the party with _me_ , not Crowley.” Anna groans into her hands.

“Why are you even bringing Crowley into this? This isn’t about him, it’s about us, it’s about you saying and doing two different things, like when we first met-” Anna’s voice goes quiet on the last part, and Castiel can tell she’s said something that she didn’t want to say. As much as he wants this to be over, he knows he can’t stop now, and he needs to know what she’s getting at.

“When we first met?” Castiel repeats, “What are you talking about?” Anna looks down at the floor and crosses her arms across her chest.

“You know what I’m talking about. When I had a crush on you, you took me out on a _date_. You took me to the cinema, gave me your coat on the way home, and _then_ told me you weren’t interested because you like guys. You lead me on, Cas. And the worst part is that you criticise me for liking Crowley, I can see it in your eyes when you look at me, like you’re ashamed of what I’ve become. Well guess what, _you_ turned me down, and Crowley never.”

“Anna...” Castiel says softly, but Anna cuts him off, tears running down her face.

“Crowley likes me the way I am, he likes that I’m strong-willed and he doesn’t mind that sometimes I’m a little bit arrogant and I have mood swings. You’re my best friend, you’re my _only_ friend, the only one who I can tell _everything_ to, you’re the one I trust with my life, and you totally let me down tonight. I’m sorry I told Dean, I am, but you’ve never gotten angry at me like that before, and now that you have Dean, you obviously don’t feel as bad just shoving me to one side.” Anna covers her face with her hands and before Castiel knows what’s happening, he’s pulling her into a hug and she’s crying on his shoulder.  

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.” Castiel says, gently rubbing her back. “You’re like a sister to me, and I love you so much and I hate it when we argue. I’m sorry, Anna.” Anna nods into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry too.” She mumbles. “I’m a horrible drunk.” Castiel laughs a little, resting their heads together.

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” He asks.

“That would nice; I don’t have money for a cab.” Anna wipes the mascara from her cheeks and tries to calm her breathing while Castiel locks the front door. “I have a headache now.” She says when Castiel comes back into the room. He gives her some Ibuprofen and takes her upstairs, letting her sleep on the wall side of the bed even though that’s _his_ side.

Within half an hour she’s fast asleep. Castiel stares up at the ceiling through the darkness, worrying about the things that were said between them, and if it will affect their friendship. He worries about Dean too, and he realises that because of all the arguing, he never got a chance to ask Anna what Dean’s reaction was to finding out about Castiel. He figures he’s just going to have to wait and find out. 


	9. This Paper Trail Leads Right Back to You

Anna is dressed and gone before Castiel wakes up. He feels around the bed for a few moments, fingers clutching at the bare white bed sheet. There’s nothing except for a yellow post it note stuck to the discarded pillow that reads: ‘Sorry for everything I said last night, hope we’re okay. See you later, love Anna Bananna.’ Castiel smiles to himself; he hasn’t called her Anna Bananna for months now. It was a pet name he gave her when they first met and she spent three weeks on a Japanese Banana diet.

After another fifteen minutes of lounging around, burying his head into his pillow and trying and failing to get back to sleep, he figures he might as well get up. So he puts on his favourite Mama Cass album and tries to work out what kind of clothing the day calls for. He doesn’t have plans to go out or see anyone, and he doesn’t dare venture to The Coffee Shop so soon after Anna’s confession, so he pulls on yesterday’s grey jeans and finds a clean black t-shirt to go on top of his grey thermal. The winter rain is relentless against his bedroom window, and he remembers that he still hasn’t contacted his landlord about the faulty window fittings. He glances at his clock and sighs; almost 2pm. He makes a mental note to stop sleeping in so late.

To keep himself busy, he decides to sort through the boxes under his bed again. He pulls out old family photo albums and letters from his mum. There’re other things too, like his uncle’s old records and a heavy, untouched bible that has been passed down through the generations and has now ended in Castiel’s hands, seeing as Michael insisted that if it was given to him, he’d just burn it. He wipes the coat of dust from the ancient book and flips it open, squinting at the tiny print and still humming along to ‘Make Your Own Kind of Music’. He thinks back to the day when Michael turned down the book, he was about fifteen and Castiel was eleven. Their mom had told Michael that he would be receiving it as a gift for his sixteenth birthday, alongside the new parts for his motorbike that he wanted. Michael scoffed, kicking his football around the kitchen despite how many times their mother had begged him not to, and told her that he would set the book, and her, on fire if she put thing that thing anywhere near him. Castiel flinches at the memory; he couldn’t get his mom to speak for three days after Michael’s comment.

The family photo album proves to be much less distressing, and Castiel comes across a photo of himself with Michael and Gabriel, taken just a few weeks after Gabriel was born. Castiel’s childish face is beaming in the photo, proudly leaning against his older brother, who has one arm around Castiel’s shoulders and the other cradling Gabriel to his chest. Castiel stares at the photo and tries to remember how it felt to be ten years old. Maybe if he’d known then what was to come, he wouldn’t have looked so happy. He frames it nonetheless, and finds a photo of him on his fifth birthday, his mom crouched down next to him. He puts it aside for his mantle piece.

Castiel takes the photos downstairs, his feet padding against the old carpet draped up the stairs. It still smells musty, even with a heavy dose of Febreeze, but Castiel has to admit he really loves this house. He’s impressed at how homely he’s managed to make it feel in just a few months. Anna bought him a shaggy rug for the living room because she said the bare floor boards were ugly, but Castiel likes them like that, they’re speckled with paint and memories of all the people who lived here before him.

He glances around his tiny living room, deciding that today will be the day of his big winter-clean. He will need to pop to the store to get some polish and maybe some more bleach, but it’s not like he has anything better to do. The music is still playing upstairs, and he’s looking in his cupboards for what he’s going to need, singing along happily when there’s a sharp knock at his door, ‘Say nighty-night and kiss-’ Castiel freezes, his forehead squeezing into a frown as he tries to work out why Anna always has to turn up at the most inappropriate moments, because he knows for a fact that she will _not_ help him clean. With a sigh, he rolls up his sleeves and makes his way to the front door. His heart starts to pound when he sees a figure of someone who is definitely not Anna through the glass panels. Both hands on the lock, he cracks open the door.

Dean Winchester grins at him, holding out a coffee cup that says ‘Cas’ down the side. Castiel stares at him with a slightly amused expression. He has no idea why Dean is at his house or how Dean even knows where he lives, but he’s feeling quite okay about it. At least this means they’re still friends. Dean cocks his head to one side as though he’s trying to see past Cas, and Castiel blushes, realising this is the part where he fully opens the door so that Dean can come inside.  

Dean watches Castiel as he almost trips himself up trying to open the door quick. “It’s okay.” He says with a chuckle and a wave of his hand. “I just came to give you this.” He presses the steaming coffee cup into Castiel’s free hand and holds his gaze for a few seconds. “I need help at the library, and Anna said you’d be the person to ask, so if you help me I’ll buy you another coffee, but it’s cool if you can’t.” Castiel nods quickly, following Dean’s explanation. Help in the library, he can do that, that’s definitely his department. And free coffee sounds great, especially Dean’s coffee. “So, you could give me a call when you’re free?” Dean continues, using his hand to spin the cup around and revealing a phone number scribbled on the other side. Castiel stares at the number for a few seconds, and then realises he still hasn’t said anything, and that his fingers are burning from holding the cup too tightly.

“Thank you.” He says instinctively. “Thank you for the coffee. Of course I’ll help you, yes, that would be nice.” He swallows down a bunch of other stuff he wants to say. “How did you know where-”

“Anna.” Dean finishes. “She told me where you live.” Castiel wonders if this is the right time to bring up the other thing she told him, but he has no idea how you just throw something like that into conversation, so he hovers in his doorway and notices for the first time that it’s not raining anymore.

“Thank you, Dean.” Castiel says, and they both know he’s thanking Dean for more than just the coffee. Dean’s expression softens, and Castiel wants to reach out and touch the skin where his neck meets his shoulders. But he doesn’t, and Dean eventually gives him a lazy wave and jumps back into his car, throwing Castiel one last smile before he drives away.

Castiel closes the door behind him and inhales the scent of caramel that has filled his hallway. His stomach rumbles at the smell, and the phone number scribbled down the side of his cup tingles against his fingers. He can’t help but spend the next five minutes memorising it, repeating it softly to himself and writing it down on a post-it note so he doesn’t ever forget. He practices writing Dean’s name underneath, and then sticks it to his fridge. On the front of the cup, the familiar ‘Cas’ is scrawled, and beneath it a smiley face. The gesture makes his stomach ache for the smell of Dean Winchester’s cologne, for the feel of Dean’s head on his shoulder, the touch of his hand to his knee. He wants to experience the roughness of Dean’s hand in his own again. He wants it all, so he sits gingerly on the edge of his sofa and dials Dean’s number, shakily pressing it to his ear before he can change his mind. 

“Hello?” Dean answers, and Castiel fights the urge to hang up. He feels desperate and clingy and maybe he should have thought this through, Dean left barely ten minutes ago, and now Castiel feels the same shame he felt when he was fourteen year old and stalking Ben Jerome in between the lockers and the history corridor. 

“Hello, Dean!” Castiel says, way too happy. He wants to sound spontaneous but ends up sounding over-dramatic. Dean takes a moment to reply, and Castiel squeezes his eyes shut with embarrassment.

“Cas?”

“Yep!” Castiel says, and then realises he’s never said ‘yep’ in his entire life. He puts his free hand flat on his thigh and anxiously rocks back and forth. “I’m free now.”

“Now?” Dean repeats, “Okay, I can do now, I can work with that. You want me to come pick you up?” Castiel pictures himself in Dean’s car and digs his nails into his thigh.

“Yes, that would be helpful, I’ll see you soon. Thank you.” Castiel blurts, hanging up before it becomes obvious that he’s getting a full-body erection over the idea of riding in Dean’s car with Dean sitting beside him. This is the most daring thing he’s ever done, other than making friends with Anna, so he feels excited and reckless and scared all at once. He sends Anna a text that reads ‘Dean is picking me up in his car so we can go to the library. I never, ever thought I’d get to say that!’ She promptly replies with ‘Remember: don’t be silly, wrap your willy!’ which Castiel blushes at and deletes.  

Deciding what to wear proves to be less difficult now that he has full roam of his rather limited wardrobe. He settles on a pair of black jeans and his navy blue KU hoodie. He wants to look casual but not like he doesn’t care, and Anna always says it compliments his skin, whatever that means. He runs his fingers through his hair and tries to push it into something socially acceptable, but he has to settle with what is obviously swept-back-bed-head. He stares in the mirror at himself, trying to think of ways to make his appearance more appealing. Sighing, he gives up, realising he’s left his coffee in the kitchen and hoping it hasn’t gone cold.

Castiel waits outside with his coffee, and a few minutes later a beat-up black car pulls up, Dean waving him over with ease. Castiel fumbles into his hoodie to pull out his keys for the door, juggling the coffee into the crook of his arm and holding his cell phone in his mouth. It proves to be a difficult task, but it’s worth it because when he walks over to the car Dean is laughing with that toothy grin that makes Castiel a little lightheaded. He leans over the passenger seat and opens the door. 

“That was a struggle.” Dean comments, his teeth edging across his bottom lip. He’s wearing his brown leather jacket and the black Led Zeppelin shirt. Castiel scratches the back of his neck and sends him a small, quirky smile.

“It’s a tricky door.” He answers as Dean pulls the car into motion.

The Library is barely twenty minutes away, but Dean somehow manages to find time to give Castiel a full music appreciation lecture, starting with Elvis Presley and ending with The Smashing Pumpkins. He throws different CD’s into the smashed up stereo and flips through song after song, cursing when the CD player jumps and idly commenting on which ones are his favourite. Castiel tries to make a mental note but by the time they arrive at the library, his head is swimming with Dean’s argument on why Madness are better than The Jam, despite what Crowley might think.

“That guy might be a smartass when it comes to all of his psychobabble crime stuff, but he don’t know jack about _real_ music. He prefers Marilyn Manson’s version of ‘Personal Jesus’ to Depeche Mode.” Dean says with a small sigh, as though this statement alones sums up why Crowley can’t be trusted. Castiel can’t help but grin, and Dean blushes as he realises he’s been talking for quite some time and Castiel hasn’t said a word. “Sorry, what were we talking about?” Castiel swipes his student card against the turnstiles, about to say something, when Dean suddenly presses flush against his back, squeezing them both through the turnstile at once. “I wanna hold your hand!” Dean shouts, and Castiel doesn’t even know what he’s talking about because he’s still recovering from having Dean pressed against him, laughing in his ear and pushing him forward by his hips. Before Castiel can gather his thoughts, Dean grabs his hand and takes off towards the stairs, pulling Castiel along with him and ignoring the disapproving looks of the security guard.

They run up to the third floor together and find it almost completely deserted. Castiel feels his heart hammering against his ribcage and knows it has nothing to do with the running, but rather with the hand that is still squeezing his own and the scent of a certain leather jacket combined with sweet coffee and steamed milk.

“I wanna hold your hand.” Dean says again, this time in a sing-song voice, and he beams down at Castiel and Castiel just opens his mouth little and shakes his head because Dean Winchester is completely insane and completely beautiful. “That’s what we were talking about.” Dean continues, and he looks down at their hands which are still clasped together, their fingers interwoven. “It’s one of my favourite songs.” Castiel nods along, trying to commit it to memory, favourite song, favourite song, I Want to Hold Your Hand, The Beatles. Dean begins leading them into a maze of bookshelves that stretch from the floor to the ceiling. “ _I wanna hold your haaaaaaand, I wanna hold your hand.”_ He sings. “ _Oh please, say to me, you’ll let me be your man, and please, say to me, you’ll let me hold your haaaand.”_

Castiel can feel his face flaring up instantly. His feet don’t seem to be co-operating and he almost trips over himself. Dean eventually comes to a stop, and he glances at Castiel and then at the bookcase in front of him. Castiel has to remind himself to breathe like a normal person.

“This is where I get stuck.” Dean says with a click of his tongue.” I know this is where all the Phys Ed books are, but I don’t know how to use that computer thingy that gives you a reference number to the book you want. It’s totally dumb, but I always used to just go through every book until I found the right one. It’s probably time I learned how to use it.” Castiel nods, looking at the books and trying to make out the words on the spines because did Dean really just sing ‘please let me be your man’ or was Castiel hearing things? He thinks back to the cinema and he so badly wants to say something, to ask what it meant, but the words are dry on his tongue and Dean is still talking about Phys Ed books and references and how much he hates technology, and the lights are flickering above them and Castiel just really needs a minute. “I could ask the librarian people but I wanted to ask you, you’re smart so I thought you’d know about all of this. If it’s not too much trouble. We’ll go back to the shop after this, it closes at 1pm on a Saturday but I have keys so we can sneak in through the back and dodge the cameras, or you could just come back to my place, that would be easier. I mean I don’t have any caramel syrup there but I have coffee so I could still make you a drink.”

Castiel is staring ahead at the books in front of him, barely making out the words ‘Physical Education in the Workplace.’ He wonders how you could write a full textbook on something so articulate. What even _is_ physical education in the workplace? Since when do you do P.E lessons at work? His heart is racing, and he’s already imagining what Dean’s bedroom looks like, and he can feel Dean touching his arm and he can smell the coffee and the leather jacket. But really, a _full_ textbook on P.E in the workplace, it sounds pretty stupid to Castiel. Dean moves his hand to Castiel’s wrist, and then suddenly there are fingertips in his palm but Castiel can’t, for the life of him, pull his eyes away from the textbook. His breathing is all wrong and he keeps taking big gasps. Dean moves closer and Castiel begins to shake, his eyes wide and his jeans pushing awkwardly against his arousal. He feels Dean lace their fingers together; his body close enough so that Castiel can feel Dean’s breath hot on his neck. 

“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.” Dean is saying, but Castiel barely registers it. “Just a suggestion.” Dean breathes, “I know Cas...” and Castiel so badly wants to look at him. “I know you’re scared. I am too. When I’m around you... I just... I don’t know, I don’t even know what I’m doing.” He suddenly pulls away from Castiel and takes a step back, a wild look in his eyes. “What _am_ I doing? I’m so sorry, Cas.” Castiel turns on the spot and a scene plays out in his head, where he slams Dean into the bookshelf behind them and kisses him full on the mouth. Except it’s just that, a scene, and Castiel isn’t really kissing him, he’s glued to the floor and Dean is staring at him, open mouthed and breathless; and Castiel is just staring back, searching Dean’s face for some sort of clue as to what is happening between them. The air between them is hot and stuffy, and after a few moments of silence, Dean swallows down whatever it was that he was going to say, shrugging off the awkwardness with a laugh. Castiel can’t help noticing the look of hurt on his face, it sits in his eyes for second, and then it’s gone.

“So are you going to show me how to use this machine or not?” Dean says as though nothing just happened. The image in Castiel’s head of a business man doing jumping jacks slowly dies. He can’t work out what really happened and what he imagined, so he silently follows Dean to a library computer and tries not to feel disappointed in himself for handing the whole thing so terribly. He realises he might have just ruined any chance he could have had with Dean and feels his stomach coiling up with self-hatred. That was his moment, his one and only chance to kiss Dean. It would have been perfect; it would have been so perfect if only Castiel hadn’t fucked up, again.

The shame bubbles inside him like a whirlpool, and every time Dean doesn’t look at him, every time Dean forces a smile that they both know isn’t real, Castiel feels more and more like that kid who could never make his brother proud.

The next hour drags, and Castiel wants to cry by the time Dean finally drops him off home. After barely speaking other than to ask about referencing, Dean made sure it keep at least a meter distance between them the whole time, and he even managed to slip in a comment about the hot girl who works in the student union bar. Castiel tries to spark a conversation about music, but Dean shrugs it off. So when Castiel gets out the car at the end of an awkward twenty minute silence, he wants nothing more than to crawl into bed and forget that this day ever existed. 

“Dean...” He says softly, trying to force out the apology he’s been preparing in his head for the past half hour. He’s standing beside the car, bending down to look at Dean through the window. Dean is staring straight ahead, sighing a little.

“Don’t, Cas.” He says simply, his fingers gripping the steering wheel too tightly. “I said I’m sorry, okay. I don’t know why I said those things and it won’t happen again.” He gives Castiel one last disappointed look before driving away. Castiel stares at the road, at the back of Dean’s car, he watches it until it turns at the end of his street and disappears, leaving behind an empty shell of what should have been a happy memory.   


	10. Stubborn Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I left you all on a rather unhappy ending with the last chapter, so here's some heart to heart between Dean and Crowley to make up.

It takes three days before Crowley decides he’s finally had enough. Dean Winchester moping about the apartment is bad enough – he leaves dirty plates of food under the sofa, forgets to brush his teeth, and calls in sick to work every day so he can sit in his dressing gown and watch re-runs of Supernatural – but Dean Winchester moping about the apartment and pretending it’s because of a girl is just too much, even by Crowley’s standards. The guy could at least be honest. So on Tuesday evening, when Dean has lumped himself into the sofa with a movie he’s seen a thousand times, Crowley turns off the electricity off at the mains. Dean continues to stare at the T.V, his stare blank and uninterested.

“We need to have a talk.” Crowley says firmly from the back of the room.

“About what, jackass?” Dean replies, gesturing towards the T.V. His eyes linger on his own reflection and his voice falters a little. “I was watching a movie.”

“Achilles wins, until Paris shoots him in the heel. There’s a happy ending and a nice speech by Sean Bean; I know how you like your English guys. But of course, you know that, because you watched this movie, when was it? Oh yes, _yesterday_. Why don’t you get your lazy ass of the sofa and take a shower, you’re starting to smell like stale cabbage.” Crowley drawls, all matter-of-fact, like he’s only trying to help. He walks into the kitchen and waits for Dean to follow.

“Why don’t you fuck off to Anna’s place, instead of nagging me like my mother.” Dean storms into the kitchen. Crowley picks up a plate from the draining board and begins drying it with Dean’s dirty tea-towel, smiling his self-satisfied smile, the one that means he’s won. Dean watches him, frustration heating up his stomach. Crowley continues to hold his gaze, smiling at him like he’s some sort of fucking idiot. “What?” He asks angrily.

“You’re such a love-sick puppy, Winchester, it’s almost adorable.” Crowley chuckles, “This _girl_ of yours must really have meant something.” Dean’s facial expression sinks into something unreadable, and he feels himself slouch against the door frame, his arms folding across his chest defensively.

“I’ll get over it.” He says, eyes heavy on the floor.

“Mhmm.” Crowley answers. Dean cocks his head and gives him a look.

“What?”

“You know what. I mean, who exactly are you trying to kid, Dean? You’ve spent the last three days in a depression which, to be quite honest, is starting to affect _both_ of our person hygiene’s. You don’t sleep at night, I’ve heard you wandering around the apartment at unholy hours, cracking open another bottle of Bud. You’re giving _me_ a run for my money with your creepiness. When are you going to tell me what happened? You said you didn’t even have a girlfriend.”

“I don’t.” Dean says coldly. “And I never did.”

“So what then? Please don’t tell me you’re getting your knickers in a twist over a one-night-stand. That’s so not you.” Crowley pulls up a chair at the kitchen table and motions for Dean to take the seat opposite, which he does, reluctantly.

“It’s a lot of stuff, okay. It’s not just... the girl. It’s more than that; it’s my whole fucking life. I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

“Existential crisis,” Crowley says with a snort of laughter. “That’s normal for a twenty one year old.” Dean’s face falls flat, and Crowley tries to compose himself into a respectable human being again. “I’m sorry, that was a stupid joke. Go on.” He waves his hand for Dean to continue. 

“You’re an ass.” Dean states. “How does Anna even put up with you?”

“You haven’t exactly seen everything I’ve got offer.” Crowley winks across the table. Dean lets out a heavy sigh and leans down to rest against the table. He doesn’t want to have this conversation, not now, not ever, and especially not with Crowley. He just wants to sit in his room and think things over, try and work out who and _what_ he is.

Before he met Cas, it had never even occurred to him that he might be bisexual. He dated girls, _hot_ girls, and lived up to his reputation. No one messed with Dean Winchester, and no one messed with Dean Winchester’s girl, whoever she might be. That was the status quo, and no one, especially Dean, bothered to question it. But then he gets a job at a coffee shop -- which yeah, it’s a little hippy for Dean’s tastes, but it pays and he gets free cookies out of it – and this kid starts coming in, not much shorter than himself, with messy brown hair and long fingers, with a curious smile and a warm, friendly heart. And Dean is lost. And Castiel keeps coming back for more, keeps chatting to him like they’re best friends, and every single time Dean writes ‘Cas’ on his coffee cup, Castiel’s fingers tremble against the counter, and the smiles between them are deep and breathless.

And Dean is so fucking lost.

He wouldn’t even mind that much, except that he’s been reading it all wrong. Castiel isn’t even a part of this, it’s just Dean, alone and confused and rejected. So he tries to pick up the pieces, tries to move on and forget about Cas, but now he has Crowley in front of him, saying something stupid about what he has to offer, and suddenly Dean thanks about what _he_ has to offer. Castiel is kind, honest, and intelligent. He doesn’t need Dean, not one bit. He’s already made it clear that he’s not interested in being more than friends – which really makes Dean feel like an idiot for thinking that in the first place – and he’s probably not even interested in being friends at all now, he has Anna and now he has Crowley too. 

“Are you listening to me?”

Dean’s head shoots up, and Crowley is frowning at him, tapping his fingers against the wooden table. He crosses one leg over the other and laughs when Dean accidentally glances at his crotch.

“Huh?” Dean asks, a blush spreading across his face. He didn’t even mean to look there. And what the hell is happening to him. Since when did Dean just randomly look at guy’s dicks?  

“I said tell me about your lady friend. What was so special about her?”

“Look,” Dean begins. “You’re my best friend, and I get it that you’re trying to pull me out of my mood or whatever, but I just don’t want to talk about it with you... it’s difficult to even think about, and you wouldn’t understand.” Crowley leans across the table, all eyes on Dean.

“Try me.” He says.  Dean almost forgets to breathe because this is the first time he’s ever noticed how nice Crowley’s eyes are. They’re hazel, but they look black with all of the lights out. He thinks they look slightly demonic and evil, but as long as they don’t remind him of Cas, he doesn’t really mind.

“No... Look man, it’s... it’s nothing personal, it’s just not something you’d have experience in.” Dean stumbles, trying to clear his thoughts. Crowley considers this for a second while Dean slumps further into his chair.

“Okay, I’m just going to be honest here.” Crowley says with confidence, holding up his hands as though owning up to a crime. Dean narrows his eyes at him. “I know this is about Castiel. I don’t know what happened, or whether it’s even a... _thing_ , but come on Dean, it’s blatantly obvious you’re in love with the guy.”

Dean’s mouth hangs open as he searches for the right words; anything to throw Crowley off the trail. But he should have seen this coming, should have known Crowley would figure it all out, and now he’s even more in the shit than he was to start with. He wants to say something, tell him he’s wrong, ridiculous, jumping to conclusions. He wants to tell him he’s got it all wrong, but nothing comes out, and the more he tries to speak the dryer his throat gets.

“I’m not judging you.” Crowley continues, and Dean realises this is the nicest thing Crowley has ever said to him. “I just want to help you, I can see you’re upset and confused and, well, out-right annoying, at the moment, so I want to help, put an end to your misery, and all that.” Crowley suppresses a laugh; he’s never seen Dean look so guilty. “Look, talk to me, tell me what happened.”

“I...” Dean begins, eyes wide like a child. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Well, let’s skip the whole ‘oh fuck Crowley knows’ part, because I’ve had my suspicions for a while. How about we talk about what’s changed, why you’re suddenly playing boy-reject.” Crowley cocks him half a smile, and Dean can’t help but return it.

“To be honest, I have no idea what happened. I thought... I thought he _liked_ me, and I’m not even gay but there’s something about him and I just... I think I came on to him in the library, he freaked out...”

“You _think_ you came on to him?” Crowley raises his eyebrows. Dean chews on the inside of his mouth.

“I asked him if he wanted to come back here, I said I’d make him a drink.” Dean scratches the back of neck with both hands. “I kinda, edged closer to him, I held his hand but he just looked so terrified like he had no idea what I was doing; it was the most embarrassing thing. He wouldn’t even look at me. So I drove him home and then when he got out he looked like, I don’t know, like he was going to give it the whole ‘I still want to be friends’ crap, like he felt sorry for me.”

“Maybe you misread it.” Crowley suggests, “He’s pretty shy, he probably panicked when you touched him because he wasn’t expecting it. He’s an introvert, that’s how they react-“

“No.” Dean interrupts, a hard look in his eyes, “No don’t start diagnosing him, pushing him into your own little category of psycho.” Crowley almost rolls his eyes. It would take him a lifetime to explain his ‘psycho’ to Dean.

“I’m not ‘diagnosing’ him; I’m explaining his personality type to you. All I’m saying is he displays obvious signs of an introvert, and that isn’t bad, Dean, it’s just a _type_ of personality, like you on the other hand, I would consider you a driver, an extrovert, someone who gains mental energy from interaction with other people. Castiel probably _did_ freak out, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you, it just means that isn’t the way he wants to show you...” Crowley pauses, taking a moment. “I feel like a therapist. A gay therapist.” Dean has to try really hard not to roll his eyes. 

Maybe Crowley is right. Maybe Dean just went about it in the wrong way, or took it too far too soon. But if that was the case, why hadn’t Cas just called? Explained what he was feeling. Maybe being an introvert meant he couldn’t do that. It’s times like these that Dean wishes he’d paid more attention to Crowley’s boring psychology lectures.

“Thanks.” He says quietly, with a genuine smile. “I actually think that helped, and thanks for, you know, not judging me.” Crowley rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile on his lips that Dean can’t help but linger on. It’s nice to see Crowley laughing _with_ him instead of _at_ him for once.

“Of course, but just so we’re clear, I’m still judging you for your car, and your clothes, and your music taste.” Dean laughs a little, and then gets up to start on his Phys Ed homework. 


	11. The Lovecats

After a full week of studying for his Phys Ed exam, and then barely passing it, Dean decides he needs to go out for a drink. It’s Friday, which means dollar night at the Graduate. He marches into Crowley’s bedroom – which is decorated to look like Hades – and tells him to be ready for 10pm. Crowley makes some off comment about Dean asking his baseball team, or ‘ball boys’ as he calls them, but Dean shrugs it off and says, “ _You’re_ my wingman.” Which -- though he would never admit it -- actually makes Crowley crack a smile.

When he goes back into his own room, Dean sits on the edge of his bed and thinks about his baseball team. It’s still a sore subject, and he feels that familiar sense of guilt settling in his stomach. He hasn’t completely left the team, but he hasn’t been to practice in over three weeks, and no one has bothered to contact him to see why he hasn’t been going. He tries to forget about it and turns on his laptop. If he’s going to go out tonight, then he figures he might as well get Monday’s homework out of the way, but somehow he ends up on Facebook, and, as usual, finds himself idly clicking on Anna’s page.

Castiel doesn’t have Facebook, but Anna does. Dean scrolls down her news feed and finds a picture that she posted a few hours ago of her and Cas. Always her and Cas. They’re at the library and Castiel is wearing his grey jumper, staring intently at the computer and surrounded by books. Anna is leaning into the photo, smiling wide and giving the thumbs up. The caption that follows it reads ‘Guess which one of us has finished their essay and which one is only half way through.’ Dean stares at the Cas half of the photo for a while. He hasn’t spoken to Cas since the disaster in the library, but that doesn’t stop him saving the photo to his laptop.

Crowley knocks on Dean’s door at 10pm sharp, wearing black skinny jeans, a denim shirt, and a navy blue jumper on top, he’s puffing on a cigarette and leaning on Dean’s doorway in a way that always makes Dean feel uncomfortable.

“Draw me like one of your French girls.” Crowley drawls, cocking his head to the side and taking a long drag of his cigarette. Dean ignores him and grabs his leather jacket from the back of the sofa. “Or your French boys.” Crowley adds with a quirky smile as he darts under Dean’s arm which is holding the front door open.

On the way to the Graduate, Crowley chatters on about the Illuminati, something he doesn’t believe in, but wishes was actually real. Dean nods along, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets away from the cold. While Crowley is explaining about the Illuminati origins, Dean tries to find constellations in the sky.

“It was a crossbreed of an alien reptile and a human being, but that’s the mythical version, the historical version says that it began with five members who wanted a perfect world with just one government...” Crowley begins, and Dean wonders if Castiel has thought about him at all in the past two weeks, if he’s spoken to Anna about it. He wonders what advice Anna would have given him in return, and whether Cas would take it. “Did I mention that I invited Anna and Castiel?” He wonders if Castiel even wants to be his friend anymore, and suddenly it dawns on him that this is the longest period of time in which Cas hasn’t been in to get coffee. He wonders if Castiel has found another coffee shop to go to, one where the barista doesn’t try and come on to him in a library. “I called Anna and told her she had to bring Castiel as well because I’m sick of your pining and it’s about time the two of you just had it out.”

Dean tongues the inside of his mouth, and wonders how on Earth he’s going to sort this mess out. He thinks that if he could just have it out with Castiel, then he could apologise and explain and Castiel might want to be friends again. He thinks about the cinema, about how much courage it took for him to reach out and take Castiel’s hand. He thinks about the party, the party that was kind of lame until Castiel arrived, his little coffee boy, and how he dared himself to lay on Castiel’s shoulder and pretend to be a little drunker than he actually was. But then Anna came out to speak to him, and Dean could see it, clear as day. The emotional connection between them was undeniable, the way Castiel leant into her, supporting her with an arm around the waist, his fingers comfortable on her hip bones. Anna was the perfect girl for Castiel, obviously. And Dean wasn’t going to make a total fool out of himself, so he went inside and let himself be flirted with. Even when he knew Castiel was watching. What an idiot he was.

 “...But now it’s out of control and everyone thinks every damn celebrity is Illuminati.”

“Yeah.” Dean answers, vaguely aware of Crowley still talking at him. There’s a look in his eyes that Dean doesn’t trust, but there’s _always_ a look in his eyes, so Dean just shrugs it off and reaches out to catch a falling snowflake. It melts in his hand, and within a second it’s like it never existed. 

When they arrive at the Graduate they find it busier than usual. Inside it’s warm and friendly and there’s a fire burning at the back of the room. In front of the fire are three worn sofas littered with students who have a text book in one hand and a cider in the other. It’s loud and Dean likes it like this, because it means he can have a conversation without being overheard. Crowley signals with his hand that he’s going to the bar, and Dean finds them a free sofa by the radiator under the window. He throws himself into one corner and pulls his feet up behind him. Maybe he could ask Crowley to speak to Anna for him, find out if Castiel has any free days this week. Or maybe he should just get over it like a normal human being.

Dean’s thoughts drift off to Phys Ed and his last assignment before they break up for the holidays. It’s not a big assignment, and it’s only weighted at 15% of his final grade, so he figures he can probably have it done in a day or two. He starts a mental plan of what books he’s going to need from the library when Crowley walks over with two beers. Dean is half way through a thank you when he looks up and finds Castiel staring back at him, a nervous smile on his face.

“Hi, Dean.” Anna says brightly, sitting down on the opposite sofa and pulling Crowley down with her. He laughs, almost spilling Dean’s beer, and kisses her on the cheek. Dean looks from Anna to Crowley to Castiel.

“I did tell you they were coming.” Crowley says defensively, placing Dean’s drink on the table separating the two sofas. Castiel sits gingerly on the opposite end of Dean’s sofa and tries not to make himself too noticeable.

Castiel has spent the last two weeks studying for his final exam of the semester. Every day has been spent in the library with Anna or his English study group, and when he wasn’t studying, he was on the phone to his mother, who apparently wanted him to come home a week early because she had come down with the flu and she was afraid Gabriel was going to get it too. Oh, and Michael had been fined for smashing up some guy’s car. Castiel felt bad that he couldn’t come home and help her out, so instead he phoned Gabriel every day after school so that his mom could have a nap. Gabriel told him about his day at school, about what he’d learnt, and casually mentioned that he’d forgotten what Castiel looked like because his brain had to learn too many new things.

It was fair to say that Castiel had a lot on his mind, but that didn’t stop him laying awake at night going over what had happened with him and Dean. He came to the conclusion that it was his own fault, that Dean had just tried to do what Castiel had _wanted_ him to do, but for some stupid reason, Castiel had panicked, and now he’s not sure whether Dean even still wants to be friends or not.

When Anna called him up to tell him Crowley had invited them out, he wasn’t really interested. He knew Dean would be there and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to face him yet. He didn’t want to turn up and have Dean angry at him for being there. But then Anna told him – after making him promise not to tell Crowley or Dean that he knew – that apparently Crowley had been speaking to Dean, and Dean had basically admitted to still having a crush on Castiel. It was the word ‘still’ that made Castiel throw on an old pair of jeans and a red hoodie, telling Anna that he would meet her on the corner at 10:15pm.    

 “So,” Anna looks at Dean, “What have you been doing? We haven’t seen you in ages.” She says, sipping on her vodka and coke. Crowley snakes an arm around her waist and Castiel stares down at his knees. Dean fidgets beside him.

“Studying, I guess.”

“You worked much?” Anna looks from Dean to Castiel. Castiel catches her eye and looks away when she winks at him.

“Yeah I did four extra shifts on top of my usual two; trying to save up for Christmas.” Dean says, scratching the back of his neck. Anna nods and turns to Crowley to ask him whether he got round to calling up his mom or not. Crowley makes a joke about his mother being right beside him.

Castiel turns to Dean like he wants to say something, but his throat feels too dry and he ends up mumbling about going to get a drink. Before he can stand up, Dean says, “I’ll come with you.”

The bar is busy, so Castiel and Dean stand side by side with their shoulders pressed together. Castiel can smell Dean’s cologne on his leather jacket, and it’s making him light-headed. If he wasn’t such an awkward introvert with communication problems and anxiety issues, he would probably just grab Dean by the lapels and make out with him. Instead, he orders three shots of Tequila and hopes it will calm his nerves a little. Dean smirks as Castiel throws them back one by one.

“I’m impressed.” Dean says, his voice still a little unsure. He relaxes when Castiel knocks their shoulders together, offering him a friendly smile.

“Your turn.” He says playfully. He isn’t sure where this sudden confidence has come from, but he feels reckless and excited at the thought of being friends with Dean again. 


	12. Coming Undone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this chapter gets a little violent towards the end, just as a warning. There's themes of sexual abuse too. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has been reading this, you have no idea how much that means to me. I'm going to leave it here until tomorrow when I'll be posting the next chapter. Please don't hate me too much, I like leaving things on a tense cliffhanger! ;)

Dean orders three shots of Tequila. Castiel glances between the liquor and Dean’s mouth, and Dean follows his every move, swiftly lifting the glass to his lips and then reaching for the next. After he’s downed them summons the barmaid and orders two Kopparberg’s.

Castiel tries to ignore the connotations that come with someone buying you a drink. He tries to tell himself Dean is just being friendly, but he can’t stop thinking about what Anna said. Her words are loud and boisterous in his head. Chewing on the inside of his mouth, he leans closer to Dean, who notices but doesn’t move away. There’s a brief second when Castiel meets his gaze and Dean inches forward, almost closing the gap between them. Something brushes Castiel’s hand, and he looks down to see Dean’s fingers. He steadies his breathing and tries not to freak out this time; he takes Dean’s hand in his own and gives it a squeeze. One step at a time. Dean offers him a lively smile, but there’s something almost apologetic about it. Without missing a beat, he throws his arm around Castiel’s shoulder and the moment is gone. They act like nothing happened and Dean walks them both back to the table where Anna is all but sitting in Crowley’s lap.

Within an hour Dean and Castiel have easily fallen back into their flirtatious routine. Dean makes jokes about Castiel’s reading glasses, but Castiel gets his own back by asking Dean about his baseball games. Anna tells them about a girl she doesn’t like in her class, and Crowley teases her by claiming he once took her on a date. Drinks come and go, and by midnight Anna has started up a game of truth or dare. Crowley kicks it off by daring Dean to chat up the barmaid. He comes back with her number, throwing the folded piece of paper at Crowley, and dares his roommate to take a pee in the girl’s toilets, which he does. Crowley turns to Anna next. 

“Truth, give me a truth.” Anna slurs, leaning forward to lap up the last of her Malibu and lemonade. Crowley pulls her by her waist back into his arms and Castiel’s finds it oddly comforting watching them together.

“Who was the first person you ever dated?” He asks. Anna laughs to herself, and leans up to kiss Crowley underneath his chin. Dean and Castiel share an amused look.

“His name was Aaron Davidson, and he was going to buy me a house,” Anna says. Crowley’s eyes darken, until Anna finishes, “But we were twelve.”

“I thought you said you had your first boyfriend when you were nine?” Castiel adds quickly, lightly brushing his knee against Dean’s. Anna shakes her head.

“We broke up after half an hour, so I don’t really consider that a real relationship.” She says, and they all laugh. Castiel looks to his side and finds Dean looking back at him. They share a warm smile before Crowley addresses Castiel.

“Castiella, truth or dare?” Crowley drawls. Anna slaps him lightly on his chest.

“Stop calling him that.” She demands, but Castiel just laughs it off. He doesn’t mind his nicknames really.

“Seeing as we’ve already had two dares, I’ll go for truth.” Castiel answers. Dean leans forward to ask a question but Crowley gets there first.

“Who was the first person _you_ dated?” He asks, and Castiel feels everyone staring at him, waiting for his answer. The truth is he only ever dated one girl, and that was in college, and it lasted barely a week. But he would never in a million years let this information out to Crowley, because he’s worried that they’re starting to become good enough friends for Crowley to tease him, and Castiel does not want to be giving him more ammo that he already has. So he just makes it up as he goes along because he knows Anna won’t call him up on it, despite knowing the truth.

“She was called Danielle, and um, we met in eighth grade. She was nice, I guess. She had brown hair, green eyes, and-”

“Are you gay?” Crowley interrupts. “Sorry, it’s just that the question has been floating around for a while now and I get that sexuality can be really complex so if you don’t want to answer that’s fine. I just thought I’d ask.” Castiel freezes in his seat. He knows that his secret came out a few weeks ago, and he’s pretty sure that Dean already knew anyway, but he still wasn’t expecting the question to be thrown at him to bluntly. Anna shoots Crowley a glare, and Crowley quietly repeats his apologises.

“It’s fine.” Castiel says meekly. Dean sits still beside him. “And yeah, I am, but I’ve dated girls before.”

Crowley nods, sipping on his JD and coke as though they are simply discussing an answer to a crossword puzzle. He glances at Dean and gives him a bold smile. Dean knows that smile, knows that Crowley has something planned, but it’s already too late.

“Do you fancy Dean?” Crowley asks, “Just out of curiosity?”

Castiel feels his face flare up, and somewhere in the background noise Anna gives Crowley the third degree. This is not a situation he can cope with, so he thinks back to his counselling at school and remembers the third step: taking yourself out of the box. Without looking at Dean, Castiel gets up and goes to the bathroom. 

Dean watches as Castiel disappears into the bathroom. He looks at the empty space beside him and turns to Crowley. 

“Why the fuck did you say that?” He demands. He feels like smashing something, but he knows that Castiel doesn’t like a scene, so he keeps himself calm and collected and tries to convey with his eyes just how much shit Crowley is in.

“I thought I was helping you out.” Crowley says with a shrug, and wow, Dean is going to kill him. “It’s about time the kid just admitted it, if you ask me. It’s not healthy to keep that bottled up, y’know.” Anna gives him a fierce look, but the effect of the alcohol simply makes Crowley smile at her. She runs her hands over the back of her head in despair.

“You _always_ take it too far.” Anna says, and she feels defeated, like she can’t deal with this anymore. “Why can’t you just lay off him for once?” Crowley holds his hands up in defensive, laughing a little, which only makes Anna angrier.

“It was _one_ question.” He says, rolling his eyes. Anna grits her teeth.

“So far you’ve called him Castiebell, Castiella, and twinkle face. Then you ask him if he fancies Dean?  Stop taking the piss out of him because you know he’s gay!”

“ _Dean’s_ gay!” Crowley shouts, pointing an accusatory finger at Dean. “I’m not taking the piss, Anna, I’m trying to get them together-”

“I’m not-” Dean starts, gritting his teeth. “I’m not gay, alright. I don’t know what I am, but it would be nice if I could just figure it out for myself instead of having you throwing labels at me.”

“Okay, so you’re probably bi then, or pansexual.” Crowley answers with a dramatic eye roll. Dean feels his stomach tensing in frustration.

“There you go again, you always have to assign a name to me like I have a condition, like I’m ill, why can’t I just be me? Why can’t I just like people without it changing who I am?”

“It doesn’t change who you are, it’s just a part of your identity.” Crowley says, “If you’re bi, then that’s fine, but you can at least be man enough to admit it.” 

“You know what, I’ve heard enough.” Dean says, getting up from the sofa and downing the last of his pint. “I’m going to go talk to him, and if you follow me I swear to God-”

“He won’t follow you.” Anna says assertively, one hand on Crowley’s knee. Dean nods a thank you, and Anna gives him an encouraging smile. “Go and talk to him.” 

Dean heads over to the bathroom, pushing drunken students out of his way. He fights down the urge to punch someone, anyone. Right now he just needs to get to Castiel. 

* * *

Inside the bathroom, Castiel is pressed against a dirty wall, his hands clamped against his chest defensively as he tries to turn his head away from the cigarette breath being blown in his face. He keeps his eyes squeezed shut and shivers when fingers find his belt buckle. A middle-aged drunk has him in a corner, one knee parting Castiel’s legs and the one keeping him locked against the wall. He uses his free hand to touch Castiel’s face, and laughs when Castiel squirms, almost retching into the sink next to him.

Castiel tells himself that if he stays still, he will be left alone. If he just closes his eyes and thinks about something else, then soon it will be over, and he will never have to tell anyone that it ever even happened. _Take yourself out the box_. He ignores the hand trailing up the bare skin of his arm and thinks about the one thing that makes him stupidly, deliriously happy. Dean. He thinks about Dean’s face, the constellation of freckles beneath his green eyes. He thinks about when they first met. Dry, yellowing teeth bite at his chin. He tries desperately to think about the smell of caramel cappuccinos, but suddenly this is Michael, and he’s 15 years old again and tied up and Michael is walking over and-

“I got you, sweetheart.” The man laughs, pushing all of his weight on to Castiel’s skinny frame. Castiel is winded instantly, and in shock, opens his eyes. The man is wearing a dirty white vest top with a plaid shirt that is five sizes too small, his stomach hangs over his jeans and his knees knock against Castiel’s thighs. The sight is revolting, and he presses his eyes shut again, still quivering in the man’s suffocating grasp. He holds up his arms and tries to protect his head, but the man is pulling them away, biting his jaw, and Castiel is trying to cry out, but his throat dries up and all that comes out is a choked sob.

Castiel’s limbs stiffen as the man leans closer to his face, but out of nowhere someone yanks him back and punches him twice in the gut. Castiel gasps loudly for air, and before he can stop the tears from falling, Dean is ushering him out of the bathroom, asking him if he’s hurt, if that man did anything to him, if he needs to go to the hospital. Castiel shakes his head, reaching out for Dean and leaning into his safe touch, grabbing at whatever parts of Dean he can reach. He hears Michael leering at him, pushing him into the banister and not caring when Castiel almost tumbles over it. He looks at Dean’s face, the creases on anger in his forehead as he screams at the manager, demanding that he call the police and have the pervert arrested, and Castiel starts to cry.

Dean takes him outside and wraps him into his jacket. Castiel hugs him back hard and buries his face in the soft pool of Dean’s neck. The smell and warmth of the leather jacket calms him down, and after a few minutes of Dean stroking his back, he starts to get himself under control again. He thinks he’s okay until Dean loosens his grip on him and Castiel clutches fiercely at the back of the leather jacket. 

“I got you.” He says softly. Castiel flinches and instantly pushes Dean away, his eyes wide with fear. Dean looks at him with confusion and steps forward. “Cas?”

Castiel stares at him, his eyes unblinking and wet. There’s something wild in his gaze, and Dean feels scared and uncomfortable. He steps forward again, and Castiel takes a step back.

“Don’t!” Castiel says, his voice heavy.

“Cas, I’m not going to hurt you.” Dean explains, holding up his hands. Castiel’s expression softens, and his eyes search Dean’s face for a sign that he might be lying.

He briefly remembers doing this with Michael. On occasion, Michael would come into Castiel’s room with a sadness in his eyes, and he would sit on Castiel’s bed and apologise. The first few times he did it, Castiel fell for it, accepting the apology and Michael’s hug. And then a day later he would find notes in his locker saying ‘You better not come on to me again tonight, queer boy.’

He looks at Dean, and searches his face the way he would search Michael’s face. But he sees no hint of betrayal, just concern. He isn’t sure what to say, so he relaxes his shoulders and doesn’t flinch when Dean moves closer, placing his hand on Castiel’s elbow.

“Let me take you home.” Dean says, and Castiel nods, but Dean already knows this is the calm before the storm. 

 


	13. Battle of One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Violence. 
> 
> I know things are getting more and more angsty, but I promise there will be a happy ending :) stick with me!

On their way back to his place, Castiel withdraws. And not just his hand. He stops talking altogether, becoming tight lipped and silent, broody even. Dean had thought they were finally getting somewhere, finally repairing what he himself had broken. He thought by taking care of Cas he was redeeming himself. But now Castiel doesn’t’ want to be taken care of. Dean can still hear Crowley’s question echoing in his ear: ‘Do you fancy Dean?’ but when he looks over at Castiel, who is walking beside him but with his eyes straight ahead and his hands in his pockets, Dean feels a pang in his stomach, like he doesn’t really know Castiel at all, like Crowley was stupid for asking such a dumb question.

In the bathroom, Castiel was a crying, shivering mess, and Dean wishes more than anything he could have taken a baseball bat to the guy who put him in that state. Castiel had clung to him like his life depended on it, had grabbed at his jacket and hugged him hard, willing Dean to never let go. Now, Castiel has all but stuffed himself away inside his jacket, burying his head between his shoulders and keeping his eyes on nothing but the pavement in front. His reaction to Dean’s words had been unexpected, and Dean wasn’t sure what he’d said wrong, but he tries to pass it off as shock. He figures Castiel must still be feeling pretty terrified right now, so he ignores the judgemental looks Castiel keeps shooting his way.

When they arrive back at Castiel’s apartment, Dean heads up the steps to the front door, fully intending on taking Castiel inside so he can make sure he’s okay. But Castiel apparently has other ideas.

“What are you doing?” Castiel asks sharply when Dean tries to step past him at the gate. Dean gives him a blank look, and Castiel knows what he’s playing at. It hurts, it really does, that Dean thinks he can have his way with Castiel just because he saw someone else get away with it. It hurts that Dean just assumes Castiel will let him in, and it hurts because this is the one guy he thought he could trust. But he won’t just close his eyes this time, pretend it isn’t happening. He swore he wouldn’t do that after Michael, and he already feels pissed at himself for doing it in the bathroom. He’s tired of taking himself out of the box just to be put back in again. No, this time he needs to well and truly break out. “What are you doing?” He asks again.

“I’m seeing you in.” Dean says matter-of-factly. “Is that okay?”

Castiel can practically hear the sarcasm dripping from Dean’s words, and his head starts to spin. He stands on the step higher up so that he’s taller, more powerful, than Dean. He wants Dean to know that he won’t back down this time, that this time he’ll tell somebody, family or not.

“Cas, are you okay?” Dean reaches out with his hand and touches Castiel’s wrist, but Castiel bats it away, his mouth locked shut. He wants to scream and yell and tell Michael to leave him alone, but for some reason he can’t form the words and his mouth won’t open. Something isn’t right, and it feels like there are pieces of the puzzle missing.

Without further comment, Castiel unlocks the front door and lets Dean inside, even shooting him a small, appreciative smile. Dean smiles back, and Castiel watches as he shakes off the tension in his shoulders.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You seem a bit...” Dean waves his hand in the air, gesturing at the space between them. “Distant.” Castiel blinks a few times and stares at Dean until Dean starts to feel awkward again.

“Let’s have a drink, shall we.” Castiel says politely, but he doesn’t recognise his own voice, and it takes him a second to remember where his kitchen is. “Don’t wake mom, though, she’ll be angry. Isn’t that what you always say?”

Dean frowns and gives him a look, but Castiel shrugs and walks through the living room and into the kitchen. Dean follows him, and sits down gingerly on the edge of a wooden chair.

“Your mom isn’t here, Cas.” Dean says slowly. “Do you think she’s here?”

Castiel boils the kettle and searches in his cupboard for tea bags, even though there’s at least twelve in the pot. Dean watches him, waiting patiently for an answer.

“Let’s have a _real_ drink.” Castiel says, his voice rising and sounding somewhat cheeky. Dean frowns again, and isn’t sure whether to laugh or to call Crowley. Castiel continues to search through his kitchen cupboards, eventually pulling out a bottle of Vodka that Anna had bought him to celebrate finishing his assignments. He opens it and pours half a glass. Dean gets up and takes the bottle out of Castiel’s hands before he can pour anymore. Castiel reaches for the bottle but Dean pulls his arm back out of his reach.

“Cas, stop it.”

Castiel figures he can use the kettle. If Dean really does come on to him, then he can grab the kettle. If it happens in the bedroom, then he can use his bedside lamp. Either way, he’s prepared. He won’t let Michael get away with this. This time he’s going to fight back.

“Mom will be mad if we wake her up.” Castiel says again, no longer reaching for the bottle. Dean opens his mouth a few times to say something, but he’s so utterly confused that he doesn’t even know what to say. Castiel smiles sweetly, but then his smile begins to falter. He suddenly recognises Dean in front of him, and his stomach does a funny churn, because Dean’s eyes are so pretty. He moves closer, and his hand hesitates over Dean’s. Dean laces their fingers together. Castiel’s eyes search Dean’s face, and he feels safe again. “Mom will be mad, Dean. She always wanted me to get married, you know, she wanted me to have kids. She always said I’d be a good dad, but she’s wrong. I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t even be a good husband, or boyfriend, or anything like that. I’ll never have kids, and I’ll never get married, and I’ll be a fag forever and she’ll hate me. I’ll disappoint her, and she’ll wish I was never born.” Castiel’s voice begins to break, and Dean strokes his hand, shaking his head. “Gabriel will grow old and he’ll hate me too, he’ll tell people we’re not related, because who wants a fag as a brother? Michael will-“

Michael will slam doors in his face. Michael will leave more notes in his locker, threatening to tell mom about his dirty secret. Michael will let his friends bully him. Michael will watch, and he will laugh, and he will shout and cheer and encourage them. Michael will be the one that haunts Castiel’s nightmares, even when he moves out and goes to university. Michael will be the reason why Castiel wakes up in a cold sweat.

Michael is reaching out and trying to hug him. His leather jacket brushing against Castiel’s arm, and Castiel just loses it. He grabs Dean by his collar and pushes him into the wall, shouting something about notes and threats. Dean doesn’t know what is happening, and he tries to get Castiel to let go of him, to stop shouting, but Castiel is screaming now, and nothing at all makes sense.

“CAS!” Dean shouts, more fiercely this time, and he uses his strength to push Castiel away. Without missing a beat, Castiel takes a swing at Dean and hits him in his chest. Dean stumbles back, winded, and tries to keep himself upright.

“I HATE YOU!” Castiel screams, a feral look in his eyes. Dean stands frozen against the wall. “I hate you, Michael, I really fucking hate you!”

“I’m not Michael!” Dean shouts back, ducking just in time when Castiel throws a glass at him. It hits the wall and smashes, showering Dean in vodka.

“I WON’T LET YOU DO THIS AGAIN!” Dean opens his eyes just quick enough to see Castiel pick up the kettle. His whole body fills with panic as he tackles the kettle out of Castiel’s hands. It hits the floor and boiling water pours out everywhere. Dean pulls Castiel into the living room, and Castiel struggles in his grasp, shouting for Dean to let go of him.

“I’M NOT MICHAEL, I’M NOT MICHAEL!” Dean cries, keeping a firm hold of Castiel’s wrists and trying to force Castiel to look him in the eye. “CAS, LOOK AT ME, IT’S DEAN.”

“NO, NO.”

“IT’S DEAN.” Dean repeats, his eyes wet with tears. His heart is hammering against his chest and panic has taken hold of him, giving him an adrenaline rush. Every part of his brain is telling him to get out of the house before Castiel actually ends up killing him, but he doesn’t want Cas to hurt himself either, and he can’t bear to see him in this state.

Castiel breaks loose, and starts hitting Dean again, crying out for someone to help him.

“I’M NOT MICHAEL!” Dean shouts, trying desperately to think of something that will make Castiel realise who he is. “I’M DEAN WINCHESTER, I WORK AT THE COFFEE SHOP, I MAKE YOU CARAMEL CAPPUCCINOS AND I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU!”

Castiel suddenly stops hitting him, and his eyes dart over Dean’s body for a few seconds. He suddenly goes cold. This isn’t Michael, it’s Dean. It’s his Dean, his knight in shining armour, the one who rescued him, the one who held his hand in the cinema and hugged him at the party, the one who almost kissed him in the library, the one who _loves_ Castiel. This is Dean, and Castiel falls to the floor and sobs into his hands.

Dean takes several deep breaths, leaning his head against the wall behind him and clutching his chest. Castiel continues to cry on the floor, choking out apologies and telling Dean to stay away.

“It’s okay.” Dean says, sitting down next to Castiel and rubbing his back. “It’s okay.” Castiel shakes his head.

“Stay away from me,” He chokes, and Dean thinks he’s going to hit him again. “I’m dangerous. I hurt you... I hurt you.”

“No,” Dean says, leaning his head on Castiel’s shoulder and closing his eyes. His whole body feels beaten and bruised, but he will not leave Castiel, not like this. He can’t even bring himself to be angry. “You thought I was Michael. You were hurting Michael.”

“You’re not Michael.” Castiel whispers, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve. “I thought... I thought you were... I don’t know what happened, Dean. I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” Dean says, opening his arms for Castiel to lie against his chest. He does, and Dean runs his hands soothingly through Castiel’s hair while he cries it out.  

“He tied me to a goal post, Dean. My friends laughed and filmed it... Michael- he hit me.... Said he didn’t want a fag as a brother. He never left me alone... Dean, he locked me in my room... Threatened to set it on fire, set _me_ on fire. I tried to change, I did, I tried so hard... I looked at porn, straight porn, but I couldn’t... It wouldn’t... and I got a girlfriend... and I tried so hard... and I tried to- I tried to have sex, but all I could think of was _him_ , and his words, and his warnings, and I was so scared... And that man, today, in the bathroom, he... he...” Castiel tries to finish his sentence, but his chest is too tight and the words come out silently and in the wrong order. Dean holds him while he heaves against Dean’s chest, his tears so heavy they make no noise at all. Dean doesn’t let go of him, doesn’t stop rocking him, and eventually Castiel stops crying, and his breathing is steady and muffled in Dean’s jacket.

After several minutes of rhythmic breathing, Dean repositions himself against the wall, Castiel still lying on his chest. He wraps his arms protectively around the younger man’s back. Within ten minutes they’re both asleep, Castiel mumbling ‘Love you’ as his eyes slip shut. 


	14. Gwen Stefani is a Babe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone that wants to listen to 'Dean Winchester's Guilty Pleasures' I made the playlist on Spotify. I might make it a zip file too if anyone wants it.

When Dean wakes up, everything hurts. His shoulders creak when he tries to straighten them and his legs are tangled all the wrong way, unable to move under Castiel’s sleeping body. He stretches out his neck and feels it click in three different places. The room is still dark, so he figures it’s still very early morning.

Castiel’s breathing is slow and heavy. Dean listens to it for a few minutes, resting his head on top of Castiel’s and not noticing when his eyes fall shut again.

The next time Dean wakes up, the sunrise is poking through the curtains. He shields his face with his hands and groans. His neck is stiffer now, and Castiel begins to stir, pushing against Dean for comfort.

“Mm,” Castiel mumbles, using his hands to feel his way across Dean’s body. “Dean?” He opens his eyes and blinks, rubbing at the corners. He’s achy and cold, and he isn’t sure why he’s on the floor.

“Hey.” Dean says. “How you feeling?” Castiel looks around the room. The coffee table has been turned over and there’s a smashed vase on the floor.

“I feel awful.” He says, and he isn’t sure which part is worse, the headache or the guilt that sits heavy in his gut. “Dean...” He wants to apologise, but there’s so much to apologise for and he doesn’t know where to start. Everything comes back to him, the glass, the kettle, the fight, and he feels sick.

“It’s okay, Cas.” Dean says, pulling them both into a standing position. Castiel gives him a deflated look, but Dean hugs him before anything else can be said. “We’ll talk later; right now you need a proper sleep.” Castiel hugs him back, closing his eyes against the tears. He doesn’t deserve Dean, he knows that much.

“Thank you.” Castiel says, even though it doesn’t begin to cover how thankful he actually is.

Dean ushers him up the stairs. “Do you want a glass of water? You’ll be dehydrated.” Castiel shakes his head, stopping half way up the stairs and turning to face Dean, who’s only one step behind.

“I mean it-”

“I know.”

“Dean, I’m so-”

“I know.” Dean repeats, softer this time. He puts his hand on Castiel’s hip. “I know you’re sorry, and I know you won’t stop saying it. So, I forgive you. I forgive you, okay?” Castiel looks down at Dean’s hand and smiles.

Dean eventually gets Castiel into bed, resisting the urge to climb in with him and sleep the day away. Castiel mumbles for him to help himself to breakfast, but not to drink the milk because it’s probably out of date, and then he falls back to sleep.

Dean sits on the edge of Castiel’s bed for a while, eyes taking in his new surroundings as Castiel sleeps quietly behind him.

He likes Castiel’s apartment, it’s homey and a little on the cluttered side, so unlike his own. There are a lot of books, some on his bookshelf and some in neat piles on the floor. There are maps too, and one large atlas that holds several coloured pins. There are two in America, three in Europe, and one in Africa. Dean wonders if it’s places he’s been, or places he wants to go.

Dean decides to explore Castiel’s apartment in more depth, starting with the living room. Castiel has an old T.V, but it’s big and bulky and it doesn’t look like it gets used much; there’s a big plant that obscures most of the screen. There’s a fireplace surrounded by picture frames, and Dean picks them up one by one, staring down at a five year old Castiel with a large, friendly looking woman. Dean assumes it must be Castiel’s mom, and smiles affectionately at the big grin on Castiel’s face. The next picture is Michael holding Gabriel, with an arm around Castiel’s young shoulders. Dean looks at Michael’s face and feels himself getting tense. The face stares back, cold and hard, and Dean has to put the frame down before he throws it in the bin.

In the kitchen, Dean goes through the fridge, curious as to what type of food Castiel eats. There’s cheese, a pack of ham that has almost expired, a plate of left over lasagne, and a tub of margarine. In the fridge door is the out of date milk and a half eaten oatmeal bar.

Dean decides to make breakfast, but he quickly realises he’s going to need supplies, so he wraps himself up in one of Castiel’s coats and hunts down the nearest Wal-Mart. He buys bacon, eggs, sausages, tomatoes, milk, and a small pot of cappuccino mix. He even takes a little longer to walk back, just so that he can keep Castiel’s coat on for a while longer.

When he does get back, it’s almost dinner time, and Castiel is still fast asleep. Dean puts the radio on low volume and begins frying the bacon. He sings along to ‘Locked Out Of Heaven’ by Bruno Mars, and can’t even bring himself to care that this is _not_ his kind of music; it’s happy and he knows the words and okay, he kind of likes Bruno Mars more than he cares to admit.

Fifteen minutes later, the stairs creek, and Castiel pops his head around the door, freshly showered and shaved.

“What you doing?” Castiel’s asks, eyes scanning over the frying pans and set table. Dean is pleased to see he has a little more colour in his cheeks now.

“Breakfast!” He says brightly, and pulls out a chair for Castiel to sit down. Castiel blushes, wiping his hands on his jeans and taking a seat. He’s never had anyone other than his mom cook him a meal before.

“Caramel cappuccino?” Dean asks, pulling a fresh carton of milk from the Wal-Mart bag. Castiel looks at the tomatoes on the kitchen counter and the four sizzling sausages in the pan. He’s pretty sure none of those things were in his house yesterday.

“You shouldn’t have bought those things, Dean. I’ll pay you back, I promise.” Castiel says, feeling guilty that Dean had to go out and do his shopping. Dean rolls his eyes, easily locating two mugs and pouring out the cappuccino mix.

“It was like ten dollars Cas, you really don’t need to pay me back.” Castiel frowns.

“But I feel bad.”

“You can pay me back in other ways.” Dean says, and he can’t help but laugh when Castiel goes bright red. “I didn’t mean it like _that_. You have a dirty mind.”

“You’re such a tease.” Castiel mutters, completely unable to meet Dean’s gaze. Dean laughs harder, and Castiel ends up preparing the food to avoid Dean’s accusing glances, which he knows are harmless. 

Once they are seated with full plates, Dean tells Castiel about the woman he saw in Wal-Mart who was buying four bottles of whiskey and eight bags of dry cat food. They make jokes about it for a while, coming up with elaborate stories as to why she would need that much liquor and that much cat food, and Castiel concludes that she must have alcoholic cats. Dean laughs and Castiel flashes him a genuine smile.

“This is really nice.” He says, gesturing towards the breakfast. “I love it, especially the coffee. It has your touch; I can never make them like this.” Castiel definitely does not think about how nice Dean’s touch is.

“Thank you.” Dean beams, over the moon that Castiel is enjoying his breakfast. “I used to cook for my little brother, Sammy, but then he became a health freak and would only eat salads, and they got boring to make. One day I’ll cook you a proper meal, candles and everything.”

Castiel can’t stop the grin that spreads across his face. Dean smiles too. They finish up with their breakfast while Dean tells Castiel about his younger brother.

“Like I said, you two would get along great.” Dean begins to pile up his and Castiel’s empty plates. “I keep telling him he’ll _get_ into Stanford, but he thinks he hasn’t done enough work, which is total bull because that kid never stops.” Castiel has to bite the inside of his mouth to stop himself looking so happy. Even though Dean is only idly chatting about his family, it means a lot that Dean can trust him with this information. Plus he has to admit, Cas now really wants to meet Sam.

“He sounds like he has a lot of potential, I’m sure he’ll get his scholarship.” He scratches the back of his head and watches Dean’s hands as they carefully place the plates in the sink. Dean has nice hands. “Leave the pots, Dean, I’ll do them later. Let’s watch a movie or something.”

Dean agrees, and follows Castiel back up the stairs, leaving out the part where the T.V is actually downstairs. They go back into Castiel’s room, and Castiel automatically licks his lips when Dean makes for his bed.

“Let’s um, let’s listen to some music.” Castiel says idly, opening up Spotify on his laptop as Dean enthusiastically rolls around on his bed. He’s getting used to the apartment now and he’s not sure if he’ll ever want to leave. He grabs a cushion and hugs it to his chest, staring up at Castiel’s ceiling.

“I like music. I can do music.” Dean answers, mostly to himself.

Castiel looks over at Dean from his desk, picturing the amount of times he’s looked over and seen Anna doing the same thing. Except now it’s Dean, and somehow that feels like a victory; only weeks before he was laid where Dean is now, complaining to Anna that the guy from The Coffee Shop had flirted with the new employee.

“What happened to the girl who worked with you a few weeks ago? The blonde one.” Castiel asks, biting the inside of his mouth. Dean narrows his eyes, trying to think back.

“Oh, her. Yeah. She got fired for handing out free cookies and coffee to all her friends.”

“Isn’t that what you do?” Castiel laughs.

“You’re the only person who I ever give free cookies and coffee too, and _I_ know how to dodge the cameras.” Dean says with a quirky smile. Castiel grins, and turns back to his computer, feeling a lump forming in his throat. He assumed Dean had been like that with all of his friends. 

“So, um. She was cute. You seemed to like her.” He ventures, glancing down at his keyboard even though he doesn’t need to type anything. Dean falls silent for a few seconds.

“You do know I was only flirting with her to get your attention, right?” Dean says, propping himself up on his elbows. Castiel swallows down a smile, refusing to make eye contact. Dean laughs a little, and it’s so endearing that Castiel just wants to jump on him. “Cas, I wasn’t into her, I was using her to... make you jealous, I guess. I wanted to see if you were actually interested. I didn’t even-” he pauses, sighing a little. “I didn’t even know what I was doing at the time; I just knew I wasn’t interested in her. There was something about this coffee kid that got my attention.” Dean laughs a little, remembering how he would go home and touch himself while thinking about the guy who drank too many cappuccinos. Once he was finished, he could try and convince himself that he was actually thinking about something else, about a hot chick, but he never really believed it. “It freaked me out a first.”

“And what about now?” Castiel asks, feeling his heart hammering under his grey jumper. He moves away from his desk and sits down on the bed, automatically reaching out for Dean’s hand. This is what his counsellor called _Choosing a box that you like and sticking with it_. “How do you feel now?” Dean looks down at their hands.

“Now I like it. It doesn’t scare me anymore.” He whispers, tonguing the inside of his mouth. “I was... confused, I guess, but I got over it. I don’t know what I am, Cas, but I don’t care. I just know I’m happy when I’m with you, and I’m not about to give that up.” Castiel has to swallow a few times before he can form words in his mouth.

“Good.” He replies softly, giving Dean’s hand a squeeze. Dean looks over at Castiel’s laptop, and realises there’s still something missing.

“I’m going to put some music on.” He says, heading over to the desk. Castiel watches him fool around on Spotify for a while, putting together a playlist which he titles ‘Dean Winchester’s Guilty Pleasures’, except it’s not really what Castiel is expecting, and when Dean plays the first song on full volume, Castiel can’t help the laughter that rolls out of his mouth.

“Really?” Castiel asks, “Hollaback Girl?”

“Gwen Stefani is a babe,” Dean says defensively, a grin plastered to his face. “And I sort of like her music, sue me.”

Castiel shakes his head, still laughing. The music is way louder than he would usually have it, but he can’t bring himself to care. “I just never took you for a Stefani kind of guy.” 

“Oh yeah?” Dean says, jumping up on to Castiel’s bed. He shakes his hips from side to side and puts on his best pout. Castiel almost falls to the floor. “Cause I ain’t no hollaback girl! I ain’t no hollaback girl!” He sings, pointing a finger at Castiel and trying to dance at the same time. Castiel claps to the music and Dean pulls him up on to the bed, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s waist and grinding up against him. “I heard that you were talking shit and you didn’t think that I would hear it,” He sings, now waving his arms above his head in a way that is totally ridiculous. “People hear you talking like that, getting everybody fired up, so I’m ready to attack, gonna lead the pack, gonna get a touchdown, gonna take you out.” Castiel is in hysterics, watching as Dean does a star jump and waves around metaphorical pom-poms.

“That was beautiful!” Castiel cheers as Dean moves into the chorus. Dean grins, wide and excited, and grabs Castiel by his wrists, pulling him in so that their bodies are pressed flush together.

“You’re beautiful!” Dean shouts, his arms thrown loosely around Castiel’s neck. Their knees knock together, and the air between them suddenly becomes hot and dense. Dean hesitates for a second, his eyes searching Castiel’s face for permission, and when Castiel’s eyes dart longingly from his eyes to his lips, Dean leans in.

Castiel can’t help but lean back a little, his fingers shaking with nerves, but once he gets a taste for Dean’s mouth, he can’t pull himself away. Dean’s lips are soft and experienced and needy, and Castiel can feel his heart thumping every time Dean grabs a tuft of hair and pulls on it, slotting their mouths together like the last two pieces of a puzzle. He doesn’t care that Dean is breathing heavy in his mouth, and he doesn’t care that the music is still too loud, and he doesn’t care that he’s leaning in a way that hurts his back, because Dean’s mouth is hot and wet and Castiel has waited so fucking long to be kissed like this.  

Dean’s tongue swipes across both of their lips, and Castiel becomes so eager that he moves in too quickly. When their teeth crash together Dean hums a laugh that vibrates low down Castiel’s throat. Castiel is pretty sure that isn’t supposed to happen, and he feels a hot blush on the back of his neck where Dean’s fingers are rubbing circles. Dean forgives him by licking into his mouth but Castiel can’t help but squirm; it feels dirty and wet and Dean is still laughing, biting his lip and asking if this is okay, and Castiel just nods and grins a laugh because Dean is blushing and Dean never blushes.

“Sorry-” Castiel starts, but it’s too late and Dean is already kissing him again, so he kisses him back but Dean pulls away to let him finish his sentence, “Sor-” Dean kisses him again, and this time they both laugh and Castiel feels giddy and stupid. Dean brushes his hair back with his hands and looks at Castiel like he’s completely lost for words. 

“I-”

“Just-”

“Sorry,” Dean takes a deep breath, shaking his head and blushing harder. “I totally messed that-”

“Dean just kiss me.” Castiel breathes, and Dean’s expression falls heavy and desperate as he threads a hand in Castiel’s hair again, pulling him into a kiss. It goes right this time, and when Dean opens his mouth Castiel follows his lead, and he manages to not squirm because even though it still feels dirty and wet, Castiel really likes it, and he thinks he wouldn’t mind if it was to get a little dirtier.

Somewhere in between Dean’s hands on his neck and Dean’s hands up his shirt, the notion of _having_ _to make this perfect_ is somehow lost, and now all Castiel can think about is how good Dean’s nails feel against his skin. His shoulders relax and he stops telling himself to kiss properly, stops having a mental crisis about whether he is actually doing it right or not. And Dean seems to notice because the grin never leaves his face, and he stops asking Castiel if this is okay, if he’s comfortable, if this is too far, and he doesn’t even ask before throwing Castiel down on to the bed and sinking into the space next to him.

Even when they’re trying to calm it down Castiel impulsively leans in for another kiss, and then another, but they’re softer this time. Dean cups his face and kisses him deeper, his fingers lost in Castiel’s hair. They continue like this until ‘Locked out of Heaven’ ends and a sudden silence falls across the room. When they break apart, Castiel bites his bottom lip against a nervous smile. 

“I never thought my first proper kiss would be to Hollaback Girl, and I definitely never pinned you for a Bruno Mars fan. I can appreciate the Moby though.” He says, and then suddenly tenses when he realises what he’s just confessed. Dean considers this for a second, a small smile tugging on one side of his mouth. The next song starts to play, and Castiel watches him, prays that he’s not going to take the piss, but Dean just kisses him again and starts to hum along to the song. 

“We’re so wonderfully, wonderfully, wonderfully, wonderfully pretty!” Dean sings, nuzzling against the side of Castiel’s face. Castiel burries a kiss into his forehead, and then his nose, and then his lips. Dean has stubble, and every time Castiel kisses him he feels it scratch his face, but it’s just another reminder than this is _Dean_. And this is Castiel actually making out with a guy, and it isn’t a practical joke or out of pity, it’s just real kissing and Castiel wouldn’t even mind if Dean’s stubble left a scar.

Dean flips up the hem of Castiel’s shirt and runs his hands flat up Castiel’s back, scratching the tense skin as Castiel groans deep into Dean’s hair. It feels kind of like fireworks are going off in his stomach, and every time Dean kisses a new patch of skin on his neck, Castiel feels the explosions right down to his groin.

Dean nips at the skin, using his tongue to soothe the bite. Castiel groans, and every time Castiel thrusts into him, Dean feels himself getting harder. He’s never done this before, not with a guy, and it’s funny because he thought it would be the same as when he’s with a girl, but it’s so far from it that Dean feels like a virgin again.

When they’ve gotten through four more songs, Dean finally pulls away. Castiel tilts his head and leans in for another kiss, which Dean catches but doesn’t linger on.

“We should... um...” Dean begins, hands still clasped around Castiel’s body. Castiel kisses his forehead and flattens a piece of hair sticking up on Dean’s head. “We should probably...”

“Yeah,” Castiel says, blushing as he realises Dean’s hands are edging towards his ass. “We should calm down; you have to leave for work soon.” Dean nods, fighting against his urges to take all of Castiel’s clothes off and devour him. He has never hated his job more than he does right now.

“I would come into the shop but it’s Saturday and that’s your busiest day.” Castiel says with a deflated smile. Dean bites the inside of his mouth and sighs. He would love Castiel to come into the shop with him, but he’s right, and he knows that even if Castiel did go, Dean wouldn’t get much chance to talk to him.

“I can come after?” Dean suggests, hoping he’s not pushing his luck. 

“I promised Anna I’d go and see her tonight; she wants to make sure I’m okay after what happened at the bar, and she wants to sort out when we can visit each other in the holidays.” Dean nods, his forehead creasing into a frown.

“Speaking of which, how are you feeling?”

“What do you mean?” Castiel reaches for a loose strand of Dean’s hair, refusing to meet his gaze.

“I mean about what happened at the bar. We haven’t really spoken about it yet and if I’m honest I think you should see someone about it.” Castiel looks at him in a way that makes Dean feel guilty to his core.

“I don’t need to see someone about it. I’m fine.”

“Cas, no one would be fine after going through that. It doesn’t make you weak, it makes you human.” Dean reaches up for Castiel’s shaking hand and folds tightly it in his own.

“It’s not that.” Castiel says, his voice faltering. “That’s not what I want to see someone about. I can cope with that. It’s Michael, I need to see someone about Michael.” Dean nods.

“We can do that, we can sort that out.” He says, and Castiel knows that he really means it.

They lay together for a while in silence. Dean hooks an arm around Castiel’s shoulders and Castiel moves closer, his hand trailing up Dean’s chest. It’s warm and happy, and Castiel feels safe here. He doesn’t move or say anything until Dean eventually has to leave for work, he just stays still, relishing the calm he feels inside.


	15. Somewhere Only We Know

Anna’s house is a twenty minute walk across campus, and despite being it being half an hour after Anna’s last class has finished, Castiel still makes it there before her. He uses the spare key under the yellow flower pot to let himself in. Crowley’s scent lingers in the hallway.

He flicks on the lights and heads to the kitchen. There’s a pan of abandoned noodles on the hob that are at least two days old. Castiel considers throwing them out, but he’s not entirely sure if she’s planning on eating them at some point, so he finds some cling-film and covers the pan instead. He figures the least he can do is stop her from eating a bowl of festering germs.

When Anna gets home at 6pm, Castiel is lounging on the sofa, spread out with a brown comforter covering the majority of his body. He’s flicking through channels on the television, stopping to comment on how old this episode of Pokémon is. Anna rolls her eyes and swats him with a cushion.

“I tidied up this morning.” She says, gesturing at the empty mug on the coffee table. Castiel laughs, grabbing the pillow on her second swipe.

“That’s not even mine. Obviously you didn’t go a very good job.” Anna frowns and takes the mug into the kitchen, propping the door open so that Castiel can still hear her.

“It must be Crowley, he left after me this morning. He never puts his pots in the sink, it’s so annoying.”

“Neither do you.” Castiel counters, following her into the kitchen. “Want to explain the noodles?”

“Oh,” Anna turns to the pan of dry noodles. “I forgot about those.” Castiel jumps up to sit on the counter. He picks up a chunky psychology textbook Anna has left by the sink and starts flipping through it. “You seem happy,” Anna notes, “Considering.”

“Considering what?” Castiel says after a few seconds. Anna stares at him with the pan of noodles in one hand a fork in the other. Castiel meets her gaze and tries his best to look naive about the whole thing.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Anna says, placing the noodles back on the hob. She locks her hands together behind her back and leans against the counter. Castiel shrugs, his eyes on the book. He starts reading about Erikson’s Stages of Psychosocial Development. 

“Dean called you.” He says. He knows what Anna is getting at here, and he isn’t ready to venture into this yet. He doesn’t want to because he’s scared, because he feels guilty. After what happened in the club, Castiel didn’t even consider telling Anna – his best friend – what had happened, and instead left with Dean without so much as letting her know where he was. He doesn’t want to tell her what happened back home, and he doesn’t want to tell her about Dean, and for the first time ever, he finds himself hiding things from her.

“I know, and I had to find out from him that you were almost-” Anna’s voice rises and then comes to an abrupt stop. Castiel knows she wants to get angry. She looks torn for a second, and then her face relaxes. “I’m sorry,” She says, “I shouldn’t have shouted.” Castiel looks at her, sees the genuine upset in her frown. He feels his stomach drop a little.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you myself, but I can promise you that I’m okay.” Castiel says, walking over so he can cup her hands in his own. She frowns hard at him between long strands of red hair. Castiel smiles. “You’re so beautiful. Even when you’re doing your angry eyes.”

She shakes her head, a blush creeping up her neck, and Castiel laughs, grabbing her shoulders to hug her. “I have some issues, Anna.” He sighs, holding her tight. “I have some serious issues and you don’t know about them all because I don’t want you too. I know you won’t judge me, and it’s not because I don’t trust you, but there are some things that I just don’t want you knowing. I hope that’s okay.” He loosens his grip and Anna nods, resting her head on his shoulder. Castiel kisses her hair and closes his eyes. “I made out with Dean.” He says, and he tries and fails to keep himself from smiling about it. Anna pulls away, a look of awe colouring her cheeks.

“You actually... You made out with him?” She asks, playing shoving Castiel in the chest. “That’s something you _should_ be telling me.”

“It happened this afternoon, before I came here.” Castiel laughs, grabbing her wrists. “I wanted to tell you face to face.” She beams at him, and Castiel grins, taking deep breaths because now that he’s said it aloud it seems a whole lot more real. “I actually made out with Dean Winchester.”  

Anna looks at Castiel, really looks at him, and sees the happiness that is buried beneath the bruised surface. She knows the majority of what he went through as a teenager, and she knows he has issues with his brother, and she also knows that there’s other stuff too, stuff he doesn’t want to talk about, and she wonders how he’s stayed so strong for so long. She wonders why he thinks of himself as weak, as worthless, when he’s been through so much and come out smiling. He stands in front of her, grinning to himself all rosy-cheeked and beautiful, and Anna has never been more grateful to have him in her life.

“You deserve to be happy.” She says softly, placing a hand on his shoulder and matching his smile. “You deserve this.”

They decide to do a final clean of the house before the Christmas break. Castiel cleans the kitchen while Anna tackles her bedroom. As she’s throwing clothes together she thinks about how she never even wanted to live in this house. She was supposed to be living with Jodie and Nina from her first year, but they backed out at last minute and by that point Castiel had already signed a contract for a one bedroom apartment, so Anna was stuck with a house on the opposite end of campus. It still frustrates her, but she’s also accepted that there’s nothing she can do about it now. And it’s not like she doesn’t get to see Castiel, he’s at her place almost every day, doing her homework and reminding her that despite what she’s read on the internet, milk does _not_ last for two weeks.

* * *

When he’s finished scrubbing worktops and putting away pots, Castiel ventures upstairs, sliding into Anna’s room and throwing himself down on to her bed while she re-arranges her DVD’s alphabetically. Castiel pulls out his cell phone and skims through his phone book, pausing on Dean’s name. He reads the number in his head and repeats it until he’s sure he’s memorised it. He bites his lip, smiling to himself, and thinks about The Coffee Shop. He hasn’t been in a while now, and his coffee addiction has magically disappeared. He wonders if it was ever the coffee he craved in the first place.

“Should I arrange them alphabetically or by genre?” Anna asks, sitting cross-legged and staring at the shelf of DVDs.

“Haven’t you just done them alphabetically?” Castiel asks, loading up a game of Bubble Power on his cell. Anna takes a while to answer.

“Yeah.” She says slowly. “But it doesn’t look right. I could organise them by the colour of their cases, what do you think?”

“Which ones are you taking home for Christmas?”

“Not sure yet, why?” Anna asks, turning to Castiel.

“Because you can take those ones out now, and then arrange the ones you have left. Otherwise you’ll complain when it gets to Christmas and you have to spoil the way it looks.” Castiel answers. Anna contemplates this.

“That’s true.” She says, and takes out a selection of DVDs. “I’m going to arrange them by age classification.”

“So when are we going to meet up in the holidays?” Castiel asks, ignoring her last comment. He thinks it’s probably best that he see her after Christmas so that his mom doesn’t complain about him leaving again, but he also knows that Anna’s parents go on their annual holiday to New York in that time, and he isn’t sure if she’s planning on going with them this year.

“Well my parents are going to New York on the 27th so you could always come down on the 28th and stay until the New Year? It would be cool to spend New Year together.” Anna pulls out a John Green book and suddenly flashes a grin at Castiel, “We could invite Crowley and Dean!” The idea captivates him, and he really wants to tell her to invite them, but he knows Dean badly wants to see his brother and figures they probably already have plans, and he doesn’t want to play third wheel to Anna and Crowley.

“Maybe,” He says, hoping to derail her ideas. There’s too much at risk. “Do you want me to help you sort your books?”

“Yeah, okay.” Anna says, smiling as Castiel sits down next to her, picking up a pile of last year’s psychology books. He glances over the title, frowning.

“ _Religion and Culture in Renaissance England_ , since when did you study that?” He flips the book over to read the blurb as Anna grabs it out of his hands, shoving it back on the shelf next to  _A Graphic Guide to Your Mind and Behaviour._

“First term when we started uni,” Anna explains, “We had to look at how religion has affected Western countries and I picked England, and just to spice things up I decided to do Renaissance. It was a bad idea; I almost failed the first assessment because I didn’t know enough about what I was talking about. Everyone else did about the KKK.” Castiel takes the book back of the shelf.

“You could have asked me.” He says. Anna rolls her eyes, once again taking the book and placing it back on the shelf.

“And what could you have told me that  _isn’t_ related to ancient literature?” Castiel shrugs.

“I could have told you that in 1534, England broke away from the Roman Catholic branch of Christianity and became predominantly Protestant. That was a huge change-”

“Okay yeah, I get it, you know more than me. Big deal.” Anna shoves him in the chest, sighing. “You’re such a geek.” Castiel laughs, quickly whipping up a generic insult about the colour of her hair matching her temper.

They manage to sort out a date for Castiel to visit, settling with the 28th because her parents will be long gone by then and Anna will have had time to ‘party-up’ the house. She tells him to bring the essentials: booze and a toothbrush. She also absolutely does not agree not to invite Dean and Crowley, despite Castiel insisting that it will make them look desperate.

“We  _are_  desperate.” Anna laughs. “There will be two of us, Cas, and maybe Jo and Ellen if they still want to come. We need boys!” Castiel blushes, shaking his head.

“Okay, but make sure you tell them this is  _your_  idea. I don’t want to seem too clingy; it’s not like me and Dean are actually dating.”

“Yet.” Anna says, flashing a mischievous grin.

* * *

Castiel takes a slightly detour on his way home, a detour that adds an extra half hour on to his journey and lands him outside The Coffee Shop. It’s almost 6pm, so he knows Dean will be locking up by now. Despite the fluttering in his stomach, he feels less confident with every step. He starts to wonder if he’s being clingy. He knows Dean won’t be annoyed, won’t say anything, but Castiel is already doubting himself, doubting whether he should actually go. Maybe Dean is busy, and there’s a chance his manager could be there, which would make things awkward. And Castiel doesn’t want to get Dean into trouble, so he tells himself he should probably just turn around and go home.

 _Not everyone is judging you Castiel, not everyone hates you._ Castiel thinks back to his counselling sessions in high school, remembers his three personalised steps to overcoming anxiety. Step one: Start small, set a goal. Okay, a goal, that’s easy. He decides his goal is going to be getting to The Coffee Shop. Step two: Prepare. In this case it’s conversational topics. He already has this figured out because he started coming up with some as he was leaving Anna’s house, he’s decides that he can ask Dean if anyone bought any caramel cappuccinos, because it’s an inside joke that won’t sound like he’s had it planned. He can also ask about his plans with Sammy over Christmas. His backup to his backup is the basic stuff, like ‘how was your day?’ and ‘have you had any interesting customers?’ Step three: Give your mind positive instructions, and use those instructions to achieve your first goal. Repeat steps one through to three. Castiel can do this. He thinks positively, tries to tell himself that even though he’s a bit dorky he’s maybe a little cute, and he’s quite smart, so there’s no reason for Dean not to like him anymore.

When Castiel finally turns the corner and is faced with the bright orange wall of The Coffee Shop, he doesn’t really have a lot of time to panic, because Dean has already spotted him.

“Cas!” Dean calls over, half waving and half trying to lock the door behind him. He still has his apron on. Castiel tries to hold in his smile until he’s at least close enough for Dean to see it, but it breaks through and he ends up grinning at passing cars and awkward strangers. Nothing feels real. So many times he has crossed this road and felt sick with nerves at the prospect of actually having a conversation with Dean, and now here he is, with Dean waving at him, beaming and reaching behind his back to untie his apron. And it still has that little stain on it, the one that looks like a butterfly just above his midriff. It’s so endearing that Castiel doesn’t feel anxious anymore, doesn’t feel like he’s imposing. He just feels incredibly happy.

“Didn’t expect to see you again today.” Dean’s says, shooting Castiel a questioning glance. Castiel shrugs, smiling.

“I was on my way home from Anna’s and I thought I’d come and say hello.”

“Just can’t keep away, eh?” Dean winks. Castiel blushes, smiling. Dean glances at his watch and purses his lips. A question hangs silently in the air for a second. Castiel begins to feel nervous again when Dean says, “Do you want to go out for some food?”

They end up at Montana Mike’s Steakhouse. They find a table in the corner and slip into a conversation about how literature and sports are taught in schools and how they disagree with the methods. They talk for almost thirty minutes on the subject. Dean lays out a plan for how he wants to teach if he ever gets his qualifications, and Castiel listens patiently, commenting in the right places. They decide to order a large plate of fries each when the waitress comes over for the third time, asking if they're ready yet.

“So you want to teach too?” Dean asks, leaning forward on the table and picking up two fries from his plate. Castiel licks his lips, laughing a little.

“I’m not sure what I want to do. Teaching is kind of my backup plan, because I know it’s something I’d like to do if I can’t work myself into a specialist area.” Dean nods.

“And what would you specialise in, if you could work your way in?”

“Modernist and experimental poetry.” Castiel says quickly, smiling down at his plate of fries. He carefully squirts some tomato sauce on the edge of his plate. “I hated poetry in high school, but when I came here I kind of found my footing. I didn’t _want_ to like it, but I did, and when we started doing modernist poetry in my lit class, I actually started giving my opinions.”

“In class?” Dean asks, trying not to raise an eyebrow. Castiel laughs.

“I know. That’s how passionate I was. I never speak in class; I just put it all down on paper and into my essays, which kind of sucks because 10% of our grade comes from our contribution in class. But I figure I can make up for that 10% in my essays and exams.” Castiel laughs again, remembering back to a poetry class in which he’d spoken up in, and every student in the class had turned to him, noticing him for the first time. “We were doing Stevie Smith, and this guy started talking about his interpretation of my all time favourite poem, and it was a good interpretation but he kept saying it as though it was fact, and I just couldn’t resist. I told him what _I_ thought it was about, and he kind of just told me I was wrong, which is usually my cue to step back. But I never, I argued my point.” He picks up a chip and dips it in the sauce, a warm, confident smile tugging at his lips. “That’s what I like about poetry, you can never be wrong with it. It’s always your own interpretation, words for you to form into your own story.  

Dean stares at him for a few moments, his eyes taking in all of Castiel’s innocence. He thinks he could sit here all night and listen to Castiel talk about poetry. It feels good to watch him smile, to lose the tension that he usually has knotted up inside him. To see him so relaxed and carefree, to see him laugh and then laugh even more because Dean can’t get to grips with reading Ezra Pound. And the best part is that Dean _can_ read Ezra Pound, and he _can_ understand the dialect, he just doesn’t want to because Castiel’s laugh is just too beautiful to pass up. 


	16. Everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone that is interested, the poem that Castiel is talking about in this chapter is 'Not Waving but Drowning' by Stevie Smith.

A week before Christmas break, Castiel hands in his final piece of work: a 1000 word critical commentary on any two metaphysical poems. It’s not assessed, so he doesn’t mind that he only spent two hours on it while Anna was bugging him about her plans for the New Year. It occurs to him on the Monday morning that he doesn’t need to be up for his 9am lecture because everything has finished now, and he’s free to go home. But Anna has to stay until the end of the week, and Dean doesn’t go home until the Sunday, so he calls his mom and tells her his course doesn’t finish for another few days yet.

Anna calls him at 1pm to see why he hasn’t met her for their usual Monday lunch. He groans down the phone and she asks him what the hell he’s doing in bed at 1pm.

“Are you ill?” She says sternly, “Oh God, did you fight with Dean?”

“What? No.” Castiel frowns. “I just had a lie in.”

“But it’s 1pm! You never sleep in this late.”

Castiel holds his cell against his ear with his shoulder, simultaneously reaching for his daily planner. “I have nothing all week now, except a 30 minute lecture on Thursday about our modules for next term; I’m allowed to sleep late.” Anna sighs, clearly put out even though they both know she probably has Crowley for back up.

“Okay, well I’m going to grab a sandwich and see if Crowley wants to meet up anyway, so I’ll speak to you later.”

Castiel says goodbye and hangs up, staring around his cluttered bedroom. He could really do with another clean before he goes home for Christmas, but he could also do with a caramel cappuccino. He throws on some pants and a t-shirt and heads outside into the cold air. Pulling the scarf tightly around his neck, he heads in the direction of The Coffee Shop.

He’s been going almost every day now that Dean has to work so much. He doesn’t even mind that it’s usually busy, he just sits quietly by himself and tries not to make it too obvious that he has nothing else to do except watch Dean work. So he takes a book, or his laptop, or Anna, when he can drag her away from Crowley.  Sometimes Crowley comes too, but Castiel has learnt very quickly that Crowley is the type of person who constantly needs to be entertained, and if Anna’s attention is elsewhere, Crowley creates his own amusement, which occasionally ventures into unmoral and illegal grounds. After Crowley tried to set his coffee on fire Castiel decided it was time to start leaving him at home.

When he arrives at the shop, freckled with snow and a little windswept, he takes his usual seat by the radiator and pulls out _Dracula_ to read. Now that his course has ended he’s decided to give himself a few weeks off to read whatever he wants, as opposed to set texts. He opens the book and turns to where he left off, shooting Dean a quick glance before he sets down to reading. Dean is already looking back to him, smiling. Castiel can’t help himself from grinning a little.

After what barely feels like a minute, Castiel looks up to see Dean placing a cup of coffee on his table. The shop is at least half full now but Dean has still found the time to write ‘CAS’ with a little heart next to it, along with a smiley face in the box marked ‘C-CAP’. Cas takes the coffee and thanks him with a smile. Dean lingers for a second, his eyes on Castiel’s book. He wants to ask what he’s reading and if it’s any good, he wants to sit down and ask Castiel how his last assignment went, see if he wants to go to Nando’s again.  But he can’t do any of those things, so he settles for a smile and goes back to his job.

At five past three, the shop finally empties. Castiel finishes his third coffee and takes the empty cup over to where Dean is cleaning up. He looks up from the counter, noticing that the last two customers have left.

“Finally.” He breathes, shaking his head a little. “Did you hear him moaning about his wife?”

Castiel laughs, elbows resting on the counter. Dean’s eyebrows raise a little and Castiel’s smile radiates confidence.

Dean has never seen him like this before, and he has a sneaking suspicion it’s down to the last two weeks of making out on Castiel’s bed, occasionally interwoven with dates to the cinema and the steak house. Usually the dates are followed by more kissing sessions laced with a bit of groping and flustered dry humping. They never push it too far, and when one of them starts to get a bit tense, they stop. And Dean is happy with that, he’s eleven shades of happy and all of them are down to Castiel and his caramel cappuccinos.

“I go home in a few days.” Castiel says, pushing his cup around on the counter. He looks at Dean expectantly, and Dean leans on the counter from the opposite side, meeting him in the middle with a shy kiss.

“I know.” Dean says, “You excited?”

“I was.” Castiel laughs, a small blush spreading up his neck. They’ve never kissed in public before and Castiel is all too aware of the camera in the corner of the room. “Now I just want to stay for a little longer.” Dean nods.

“We’ll see each other on the New Year.” Dean offers, smiling when Castiel keeps eyeing up the camera with nervous glances. “He never watches it back unless there’s been an incident.” Castiel blushes harder.

“Oh, okay, I just didn’t know if it would get you in trouble.” He looks down at the counter, at his hands folding into Dean’s.

“It won’t.” He smiles, warm and reassuring. “Anyway, I was thinking.” Castiel looks up. “Would you like to maybe meet up before Christmas? Just for a day or something? I mean I know we’re all going to Anna’s for New Year, but I won’t be doing anything in the holidays and if you want to get away from Michael for the day we could always meet up somewhere? I could drive out to you.”

Castiel nods, his eyes full of hope. “That sounds nice; I’d like that. I could even ask my mom if you can stay over.” He swallows a little, hoping it doesn’t sound too ridiculous that he still has to ask his mom if his friend can stay over. “I mean, she won’t have a problem with it. That’s if you wanted too, of course.”

“I do.” Dean grins, “I want to meet your family. I want to meet Gabriel, he sounds awesome.”

Castiel laughs, shaking off some of the tension. “He’s only awesome for the first five minutes, and then he’s annoying and hyperactive.”

“Sammy never really went through that stage. It was always me bugging _him_. He was quiet and shy as a kid, still is.”

“I’m looking forward to meeting him, is he still coming to Anna’s for New Year?” Castiel asks. Dean shrugs.

“I think so. He said he was, but I think one of his best friends might be having a party, so he might be going there.”

“Well even if he can’t make it, I’m sure I’ll meet him one day.” Castiel says. Dean catches his gaze and they stare at each other for a moment, taking in the concept that this could be _long term_ , and that one day they might meet each other’s families and stay at each other’s houses. And Castiel can’t help but marvel over how fantastic that all sounds. Dean seems to think so too, because his eyes light up and he squeezes Castiel’s hand.

“I’m sure you will.”

-

At 5pm when Dean has locked up and Castiel has had way too many coffees, they decide to go on a drive to Brixton Park. Castiel kind of loves Dean’s car because it smells like Dean’s aftershave and Dean always plays his favourite songs, giving Castiel a lecture in every different era of music. Castiel comes to the conclusion that Dean basically listens to _everything_ , which makes it kind of difficult for him to keep up. Back in his room he has _The Beatles, The Strokes, Gwen Stefani, Moby, Radiohead_ , _Bruno Mars,_ and _The Police_ scibbled on post it notes in Dean’s handwriting. Above the bed the final note, blue with a creased corner, reads _and when I touch you I feel happy inside, it’s such a feeling that my love, I can’t hide, I can’t hide, I can’t hide._

They drive like this for thirty minutes, taking their time with John Lennon and Moby. Castiel hums along to songs he recognises and Dean outright bellows the words. They laugh together, and Castiel asks Dean what led him to name his car Gloria. Apparently his mom chose it, and it just kind of stuck.

“I would like to drive.” Castiel says, watching Dean’s hands on the gear stick. Dean glances across at him.

“No one ever teach you?”

“No, my mom can’t drive. Michael can, but he wouldn’t teach me.” Castiel frowns, and not wanting to linger on the Michael end of the story, asks Dean who taught him.

“My dad.” He smiles, checking out the nearest road sign. “He’s getting on now, but he taught me how to do a lot when I was younger. I’m real good with motors, that comes from him.”

“Was he a mechanic?” Castiel asks, genuinely interested in Dean’s family.

“Kind of.” Dean laughs a little. “He did odd jobs for people. My uncle Bobby had a scrap yard, and my dad would work there most days. Bobby taught me a lot, too.”

“Like a family business?” Castiel smiles. Dean nods, reaching across to squeeze Castiel’s hand.

“I’ll teach you to drive.” He says, and Castiel believes him. “We could make it your New Year’s resolution to learn to drive.”

“I’d like that, thank you, Dean.” Castiel says, and he finds it amazing that he can still look at Dean and still feel that same explosive happiness he felt when Dean first held his hand in the cinema. With most people it takes a few months for Castiel to feel comfortable enough to form a proper friendship. Usually he just stumbles his way through a generic conversation, making small talk and trying to come across as interesting. With Dean, he feels at ease, like Castiel _knows_ this person, and not just as a friend, but as a soul mate. They don’t even always have to talk; sometimes they just lay together on Castiel’s bed, silent and calm. Dean traces circles onto Castiel’s hand, and Castiel closes his eyes and focuses on the soft lullaby of Dean’s breathing. It’s natural and it’s easy and it’s everything that Castiel wants.

At Brixton Park Castiel accidentally mentions that he’s brought along his journal, which mainly consists of his favourite poetry and inspiring quotes. They find a deserted spot just behind an area called the Witches Circle and Dean lies out on the grass, stretching his arms behind his head. His shirt rises a little, and Castiel gently reaches out to touch his stomach. Dean pulls Castiel down beside him, and they lay together, flipping through Castiel’s journal. When Castiel points out his favourite poems, Dean asks him to recite them. Castiel is reluctant at first, but with several encouraging kisses, agrees to reads through his favourites. He even explains to Dean the context of the poem and his own interpretation. Dean doesn’t really understand, but he listens anyway, staring sideways at Castiel as he reads. The winter sun catches their faces and Dean watches him with hazy eyes, wondering if anything could be more beautiful.

“I like that one.” Dean says after Castiel finishes reading the last poem. “What was that called?” He props himself onto his elbows, leaning closer to see into the journal. Castiel has a knowing smile on his face, and Dean isn’t sure why.

“This one?” Castiel says, just to be sure. He moves the journal away from Dean’s gaze and grins. “You like this one?”

“Yeah,” Dean laughs, questioning Castiel with his eyes. “I got that one. It’s about a man out at sea, and everyone thinks he’s waving, but he’s actually drowning. Why? Don’t you like this-” He’s cut off when Castiel kisses him, smiling and laughing because this is his favourite poem in the world and Dean _gets_ it. His interpretation is different from his own, more literal, but he gets it and he likes it and this is Castiel’s favourite poem.

“I just...” Castiel wants to say _love you_ ; he really badly wants to say it, because that’s how he feels. Dean is this warm ball of light that makes Castiel feel safe and happy, and Castiel just really loves him for that. “I just don’t want to leave yet.” He finishes, sighing a little because he has to go home in a few days and trade Dean’s company for Michael’s.

Dean looks a little confused, and at first he wonders if they’re still talking about the poem, but the look in Castiel’s eyes is too serious, too withdrawn, and he realises they are talking about Michael.

“Well, you never gave me a proper answer about me visiting before Christmas.” Dean smiles a little, laying the journal down between them. Castiel fingers the cover, uneasy.

“I’d love that. You’ll actually drive all that way?” He looks up, a small frown creasing his forehead.

“It’s not far, and you’re worth it.” Dean says. “I’ll spend the first week with Sammy and my folks, and then I could come down in the second week? Around the 20th,” Castiel nods, moving to rest his head on Dean’s chest.

“Maybe come for two nights? Or just one, I don’t mind.” Castiel smiles, “I’ll call my mom later and see if it’s okay.”

“Does your mom know?” Dean asks, lowering his voice. His eyes fall softly on Castiel’s lips. Castiel shakes his head.

“I’m going to tell her when I go home.”  

Dean thinks about how he’s going to come out to his own parents. He knows his mom will be fine with it, she’s that kind of free-loving person, but he’s not too sure about his dad. John Winchester is set in his ways just like Henry Winchester was, and now in turn, Dean. Coming round to the idea that his first born son might not produce another Winchester boy could be difficult. Then there’s Sam, who would be okay with it and tell Dean that doesn’t matter, even when Dean just mentions it in passing. That’s one of the reasons his brother is also his best friend.

“Are you going to tell your parents?” Castiel asks, picking at the grass and winding it around his little finger. Dean closes his eyes, lifting his hand to rest in Castiel’s hair.

“I’ll tell Sammy.” He says, and Castiel feels his stomach rise and fall with nerves. “I’ll tell dad eventually, just when I’ve found the right words.”

“It took me a while to set a date.” Castiel says, and Dean opens one eye to look at him. “I mean, I’ve known for ages now, but I just couldn’t bring myself to tell her. I tried to make it obvious, but she either ignored it or just didn’t realise.”

“How did you make it obvious?”

“She would ask me about Anna when I first moved to uni,” Castiel smirks, “She would always ask if something had happened between us yet, and I would always say no and that it never would, because I don’t like Anna in that way. Then she’d tell me not to worry, that the right girl would come along one day.” Dean laughs, reaching for Castiel’s hand. Their fingers brush together, and Dean remembers the cinema, the scary movie that Castiel didn’t even want to see, he remembers the library, running up the stairs whilst holding Castiel’s hand, the awkward almost-kiss, the big misunderstanding.

“What is it?” Castiel asks, noticing the spaced-out look in Dean’s eyes. He looks concerned, and when he leans closer Dean places his free hand on the back of Castiel’s neck and kisses him on the mouth. It’s slow and long and Castiel relaxes his whole body against Dean’s. Dean holds him tight, kissing his lips and combing the messy brown hair with his fingers.  

“It’s nothing.” Dean says, smiling and breathless when he pulls away. What he really wants to say is: _it is everything_. 


	17. Better Places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay first off, I'm really sorry for the mini-hiatus that I've just been on recently! I had so much stuff going on with uni and assignments and stuff, but I'm back on track now and hopefully you'll all forgive me :) 
> 
> Secondly, I don't have a beta anymore (I'm in the process of trying to get a new one) so I'm sorry if I've used English terms instead of American (my beta was American so she would correct my Englishness) 
> 
> -
> 
> I really want to do something creative alongside this fic, like make some pieces of art or something. I was thinking of actually writing up all the music post-it notes, with little comments from Dean and Cas at the bottom, and then posting pictures of them somewhere (maybe LJ or Tumblr), and maybe adding in little pictures, like of some of the pages from Castiel's notebook about Dean, or text messages between the characters. What do you guys think? I'm open to any help or ideas!

Castiel comes to the conclusion that his life has improved greatly in the space of two weeks. This is what he’s going to tell his counsellor, and in his notebook he’s a made a list of all the things he’s learnt in the past two weeks: Dean doesn’t like dark chocolate, has a small wheat intolerance, sleeps on the left side of the bed, watches Troy at least once a week, drinks a lot of Mountain Dew, and – although he would never tell anyone else this – uses hairspray to keep his fringe back. Castiel has learnt that Dean is kind of amazing, even if he does take a stupidly long time in the shower. Because in the space of two weeks, they’ve shared around 500 kisses, read poetry to each other, updated the post-it notes around Castiel’s room with more of Dean’s favourite bands, and organised for Dean to come and visit over Christmas. So yeah, Castiel figures it’s been a pretty good two weeks, and he’s actually really looking forward to his third session with his counsellor.   

While he’s jotting down that Dean also likes to take his laptop into the bathroom with him – which he finds kind of strange but amusing at the same time – Dean walks over, perks himself on the edge of the table, and peers down into Castiel’s notebook.

“That’s not strange.” Dean laughs, stabbing a finger at the laptop comment. “A lot of people do that.”

“Sure.” Castiel grins. “So how does it feel to know you won’t be working here again until next year?”

“When you put it like that it sounds great, but it’s only about a month that I actually get off.” Dean says, pulling a face. “Do you want another drink?”

Dean goes over to make another cappuccino, and when Anna follows him and begs him for the seventeenth time, he finally gives in and lets her use the barista machine to make her own concoction.

“If you break anything, you have to pay for it.” He says, turning the machine on for her as she jumps up and down.

It’s the Wednesday before the holidays begin, and Dean has finished his final shift of the year at The Coffee Shop, so he decided to invited Castiel, Crowley, and Anna to join him for one last get together. He realises he probably should have just invited Anna and Castiel to his flat instead, because now he’s going to have to clean up the milk that Anna has already spilt across the floor.

“I can’t steam the milk!” Anna shouts, pulling a sad face. Dean finishes making the cappuccino and takes it over to Castiel before helping her.

When Crowley can’t take it anymore, he gets up to show Dean how to steam milk _like a real man_. He even makes a point of sighing as he walks across the room, letting himself in behind the counter. He does it wrong, and Dean ends up having to turn the machine off before Crowley blows it up. Anna rolls her eyes and pulls him out the way, insisting she knows what she’s doing, but Crowley absolutely refuses to be beaten at milk-steaming.  

"Show her how a man does it, Crowley." Castiel calls out teasingly, and to his absolute horror, Crowley turns and throws him the most erotic wink.

“Yeah, show me how a _man_ does it.” Anna says, joining in on the joke. Crowley jumps up on the counter next to her, ducking his head as if to whisper even though he makes no effort to lower his voice.

“That’s not what you said last night babydoll.”

“Oh...” Dean’s laugh turns into a rather disgusted frown. “Can we not?”

“Yeah,” Anna says, swatting his knee, “Listen to the boss. And stop calling me babydoll.”   

"You brought it up in the first place." Crowley says, shrugging to insinuate he had no part in this. “Demanding sex everywhere we go, you’re an animal.”

Anna looks over at Castiel, shaking her head. "Why did you let me date this barbarian?"

“How dare you; I'm delightful." Crowley jumps down from the counter, ready to try again with the milk-steaming.   

"You both need serious mental help." Castiel says, his voice deadpan. The room falls silent for a second and then Dean shoots him an impressed look. Castiel grins because wow, since when did he start making jokes? Even Anna looks amused.

"Ah, little Castiel has hatched.” Crowley lifts his cup of not-steamed milk to his lips, taking a long sip. Castiel and Dean watch him in silence. “What a fine day.”

When Crowley and Anna slip into conversation about psychoanalysis, Dean takes this as his cue to leave. He makes himself a fresh cup of coffee and takes it over to Castiel, who has already propped open a book. He sits down and glances out the window behind him; it’s already getting dark already and he knows it’s probably going to rain soon.

“Hey,” Castiel says, bringing Dean’s gaze away from the window. “You alright?” Dean nods, smiling.

“Yeah.” He gestures towards the book, “What you reading?” Castiel shrugs a little, closing the book to show Dean the title. “Sense and Sensibility,” He reads, “That for your course?”

“No,” Castiel marks the page he’s on, closing the book and pushing it to the side. He tries not to let himself go red because he’s been through this a million times already with Anna; it’s a classic and it’s a great book and it’s _not_ just for girls. “It’s just something my mom likes and it’s a really famous classic so I decided to give it a read.”

“Cool.” Dean idly wraps his little finger around Castiel’s. “I might have to borrow it when you’re done if you think it’s a good read.” Castiel knows – and not just from his language lessons – that he isn’t taking the piss, that he’s genuinely interested in reading the books Castiel recommends. It’s such a good feeling that he can’t help but break into a grin. Dean’s eyebrows knit in confusion because he has no idea what Castiel is grinning about, and they both end up laughing over nothing and the whole time Castiel is squeezing harder on Dean’s little finger.

Somewhere in the background, Crowley swigs down the last of his milk and throws the empty cup into the bin. He walks over to Anna and they seem to have a whole conversation without actually saying anything, but rather Crowley nods his head towards the door and Anna rolls her eyes. So she finishes up her latte and they both turn to Dean, saying they’re going to head home before the weather gets worse. Dean looks from Castiel to Anna, and they share a look that Dean doesn’t really understand.

“Have fun,” Anna says elaborately. Castiel smirks as he hugs her.

“Oh stop it.” He laughs and turns to Crowley, “If I don’t see you before New Year, have a good Christmas.”

“You too.” Crowley says, holding up his hand as a sort of wave. Castiel waits for some sort of insult or nickname, but Crowley just smiles, holding the door open for Anna.  

Dean sees them both out the shop, promising Anna to see her on New Year and warning Crowley that if he doesn’t clean that pan out by 6pm, it’s going in the fucking bin. Crowley flips him the bird but Dean ignores it, telling Anna to have a great Christmas and reminding her not to take any shit from Crowley.

When he comes back inside he rests his hands on the back of Castiel’s chair, leaning down to rest his chin on Castiel’s shoulder. “What do you want to do now, my little caramel cappuccino?”

“We could go back to mine?” Castiel offers, turning into Dean’s touch. Dean smiles and kisses the top of his head.

“I’ll grab my coat.” 

* * *

Anna’s t-shirt slips off in one swift movement. She feels embarrassed at first, holding an arm across her chest to cover herself, but when Crowley’s shaking hand touches down on her leg, she relaxes. She knows that touch, she knows the voice that keeps asking if this okay. So when Crowley moves closer, scooting across the bed awkwardly because they’ve both agreed to have the lights off, she lowers her arm and kisses his naked shoulder.

Crowley pulls her closer, his hands wind around her waist and he tries to act like he’s done this a million times before. His hands are warm and rough, and Anna likes how they feel when they cup the back of her neck, when they pull her into his kisses. She slides closer, lowering herself so she’s beneath him now, and she pulls his hips down to meet hers, rocking herself against him in a steady rhythm. Crowley bites her neck, her ears, her collar bone.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Crowley says, his voice low when Anna reaches out to remove his underwear. She nods, focusing on pulling down the boxer shorts, but Crowley edges away.

“That’s not a yes.” He says, wanting to be sure.

“I want to.” Anna whispers heavily, reaching out for him again. He meets her gaze and kisses him hard. “Yes.”

They take it slowly, working the rest of their clothes off over time until they are just a mangling of limbs. Crowley moves to the end of the bed, picking up Anna’s feet to kiss her toes. Anna giggles and tries to squirm away, but Crowley keeps a tight hold, kissing her ankles and up along her shins. She can’t help but laugh at the sight of it, but somehow she’s smiling and blushing and when he gets to her thighs she can feel her breathing getting heavier.

She watches the way his back curves when he leans across her body. She watches him kiss her stomach, her hip bones, her ribs. He murmurs against her, telling her how beautiful she is, and Anna just really needs a moment to take control of the fluttering in her chest. Fingers find their way around her waist, down to her hips and back along her thighs. It’s teasing in every sense of the word, and Anna can’t help but lift her body to meet Crowley’s lips. Her fingers spread out in the sheets when he lifts her leg to kiss the inside of her thigh. Crowley lifts his head to check her response, smiling when he sees her eyes closed, mouth open and a little wet.

“So beautiful.” Crowley drawls, his eyes sweeping along the entirety of her body. “And not just your body. Your personality is beautiful, and your spirit.”Anna opens her eyes, and her stomach just melts into a hot mess. Her smile reaches right up to her eyes, and when he looks at her she thinks for a moment that she might actually cry. “It sounds so stupid, but I knew right from the day we met that we’d end up here, and not because I thought you were easy or you’d want me, but because I knew that you were the kind of person I would fight for.”

* * *

They fall into their usual positions on Castiel’s sofa; Dean on the left with an arm slung around Castiel’s shoulders and Castiel snug against Dean’s chest. His hand reaches for the remote, but Dean grabs it first, grinning at his victory and kissing away Castiel’s playful frown. He flicks through the channels on the TV, knowing that he will probably end up watching whatever Castiel wants to watch anyway.

“I only have 30 channels.” Castiel says, even though he tells him this every time he comes here. “You’re not going to find ESPN.”

“I’m not looking for ESPN.” Dean says, not taking his eyes from the TV. Castiel watches the screen flick from channel to channel before he can process what’s actually on it, but eventually Dean lands on the one he was looking for: Animal Planet.

“Your favourite.” Dean states, breaking into a grin because Castiel is looking at him like he’s the greatest person in the world.

“How do you know that?” Castiel looks from Dean to the TV, his whole face stretching into a smile.

“Because you like animals, and you always pause on this channel a little longer than any other when we’re finding something to watch. Oh, and you have an Animal Planet pencil case under your bed.” Dean winks. Castiel looks horrified.

“That- That was from when I was a child!”

“Sure.” Dean smirks, and Castiel looks adorable when he’s embarrassed. “Now here’s the real dilemma; do we order in Chinese food or pizza?” 

* * *

As she feels her entire body contract, Anna realises she’s never had sex this good before. With Crowley beneath her, clutching desperately at her hip bones, she feels like she could achieve anything. Because here is Crowley, smart-ass, kind of cute, bit of a jerk, the class heart-breaker. Here is Crowley, panting beneath her and begging for _please just a little bit faster_. He looks so beautiful, with his dark coat and dark jeans and dark personality cast aside, he’s naked and warm and he has little freckles on his chest. And he looks at Anna the whole time Anna looks at him.

It’s just as he’s about to come that she uses one hand to steady herself on top and the other to sweep back her hair. Crowley can’t stop himself from pulling her back down against him, trailing his hands through her hair, grabbing and pulling. And they come together, and Anna is trying to catch her breath, and Crowley’s voice is vibrating against the skin on her neck.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

* * *

Friday rolls around in a blur. Around midday Dean shoves a bunch of clothes into his case and throws in his laptop. Crowley stands at the door way, watching him hold up a pair of jeans, trying to work out whether or not they need to be washed.

“I can’t work out if you’re taking or leaving the dirty clothes.” Crowley says, lighting up a cigarette. Dean looks over at him before throwing the jeans back on to the floor.

“I’m taking the dirty stuff home; my mom will wash it for me.” He looks at the cigarette. “You know you’re not allowed to smoke in here.”

“It’s the last day, fuck it.” Dean holds out a t-shirt and frowns at it.

“I thought you weren’t going back until Sunday?”

“I’m not.” Crowley answers, and he goes out of his way to blow his smoke towards the smoke detector. “Whatever. It’s the last weekend.” Dean ignores him, picking up a textbook that he probably won’t read but should take home anyway. “You said your sweet goodbyes to lover boy?”

“We said goodbye yesterday, I’m not seeing him today because he needs to clean his apartment before the landlord comes.” Dean answers, trying to keep his expression neutral. He really has to admit that he’s feeling a little down. The past few weeks he’s been completely himself. Everything has been trips to the steak house and winter walks through deserted fields and holding hands and kissing under streetlights. And now he has to go home, back to his over-bearing family, back to his college friends who play baseball and chase girls and get their thrills from breaking the speed limit, back to being strictly heterosexual and manly. It’s more than just saying goodbye to Cas; it’s saying goodbye to himself.

Crowley eventually disappears back into his own room to call his sister, leaving Dean to pack away the rest of his things.

* * *

On his way out of town, Dean gives in to the urges and stops by Castiel’s apartment. Castiel is cleaning the window when he pulls up, wearing his old jogging bottoms and a white t-shirt stained with blue paint. It takes him a few moments to recognise Dean’s car, and then he jumps down from the sofa he’s pulled up and appears a few seconds later at the front door, polish in one hand and a rag cloth in the other. Dean runs up the steps to the door, his smile wide and genuine. Castiel still isn’t entirely sure where they lie on the relationship spectrum, or if they’re even using that word yet, and he doesn’t want to ask, just in case. So he invites Dean inside and closes the door and locks it before turning into Dean’s waiting kiss.

“I thought you could use a little company before your landlord gets here,” Dean says, his arms slung around Castiel’s shoulders. Castiel places his palms flat around Dean’s middle, looking up at Dean with raised eyebrows. Dean laughs, rolling his eyes, “Okay, fine, I wanted to see you one more time before I went home.”

It suddenly dawns upon Castiel that Dean might actually think about him when they’re not together. He’d kind of just assumed that when they’re not together, Dean is busy with his studies or his job or with Crowley. But Dean must have been thinking about him in order to realise he wanted to see him over more time, right? And now he’s wondering if Dean has ever stretched out on his bed and let his thoughts linger on Castiel, just as Castiel’s so often linger on Dean.

The butterflies bounce around his stomach again, and Dean is pressing little kisses on his nose, his forehead, his temples, and the words just slip out of Castiel’s mouth like water.“You’re perfect.”

Dean smiles inwardly, his breath hitching. He reaches out and cups Castiel’s face in both hands. It’s a small gesture, but Castiel leans in to it, doesn’t even mind that he’s already committed it to memory, because Dean is breathless and holding him in both hands and suddenly they’re kissing again and it’s passionate and breathtaking. 

“So are you.” Dean says, resting their heads together. He laughs nervously, trying to find the right way of putting his feelings into words. “I was lost before I found you, Cas.” 

Castiel smiles to himself, gripping Dean’s shoulders that little bit tighter, because Dean Winchester was in a baseball team before they met, and he had friends and girlfriends and good grades. Then there’s Castiel, who had trust issues and social anxiety and a whole history of mental abuse, and yet Dean is the one who was _lost_. And maybe he’s right, maybe Castiel wasn’t lost the way Dean was; sure Castiel was just damaged and a little broken, but he never doubted himself. He has this silly image in his head of Dean as this wondering ball of light, searching city after city for the right bulb, and Castiel comes along and finds him, a little bruised around the edges and empty of any light, but he finds Dean and he loves him entirely, and in return Dean shines his wonderful light and fixes him.

 


	18. Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update once again, I'm still struggling to find a beta that can respond quick enough for me to move on to the next chapter. Thank you so much for the great feedback :) keep it coming! ;)

Once his apartment has been cleaned and his landlord has given him the okay for another term, there’s really nothing else for Castiel to do. So he spends most of the morning wondering around his living room, touching the arm of the sofa, the remote held together by cello tape, the picture frames on the mantel piece; all the places Dean Winchester has been. He lingers on the picture frame, eyes catching the sinister smile of his older brother. His mind automatically jumps to the events of the past two years -- the verbal abuse, physical abuse, mind games, threats, hurtful comments, and about seventy three fake apologies -- and Castiel realises that he’s preparing for the worst.

He decides not to think about it though, and to pass the time before he can go and see Anna he takes a long shower. He brings his laptop into the bathroom -- laughing a little because Dean would be so proud -- and plays some music, settling as usual for the playlist Dean left on his Spotify account. A small smile eats away at him when Moby’s‘In My Heart’ starts playing; Dean Winchester and his weird obsession with Moby. 

The shower is simultaneously very hot and very cold, thanks to his broken boiler. For every three seconds he gets of scorching water, he gets five seconds of ice-cold, but he takes it on the chin, standing firmly beneath the shower head and trying to adjust to the opposing temperatures. Eventually, the hot water dwindles to a sort of luke-warm, and when he can feel himself shivering he figures it’s time to get out. Pulling two towels from the towel rack, he and wraps one around his waist and the other across his shoulders. Balancing his laptop flat on his palm he tries to manoeuvre himself back into his bedroom while holding his towel in place. As he throws the laptop down onto his bed, humming along to U2’s ‘It’s a Beautiful Day’, his phone begins to vibrate on his desk. It’s Anna, and she’s apparently just woken up even though it’s almost 2pm.

 “You coming... round today?” She asks, yawning mid sentence.

“I didn’t realise we’d organised anything.” He says, as though he has a whole list of other things he can do instead.

“Cassie, get a grip, you don’t need to have it imbedded in your calendar in order to come and see your best friend.” She says, pausing for a second, “Is that U2?” Castiel blushes, turning his music down so Anna can’t hear it. “I didn’t know you liked U2...”

“I... yes, I’ll come over. I’ve just gotten out the shower so I’ll be about half an hour.”

“Okay well I’m at Crowley’s so just come here.”

“Oh, um, well I don’t know where he lives.” Castiel swallows thickly, glancing over the post-it notes.  

“It’s Dean’s apartment, Cas.”

“Yeah, I know, I’ve never been. We’ve always come back here because we know no one will be in, and it’s closer.”

“That’s just dirty.” Anna laughs, “You sex freaks.”

Castiel runs a hand through his wet hair and frowns. “No that’s not what I-”

“I know, I was joking.” Anna says, and Castiel can practically hear her eyes rolling. “He lives at 445 Olson Way, it’s like three doors down from Sonia’s Cafe, we went there in our first year when we got lost, remember?” Castiel smirks at the memory. He and Anna had taken off from campus in their first week, hoping to map out the city, but instead they ended up in some residential area behind an industrial park. Sonia’s Cafe did do nice bacon though, so it wasn’t entirely a wasted day.

“Yeah I remember.” Castiel smiles, reaching for a pen and post-it note. “455, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll text you when I’m there.” Castiel says, not sure whether to hang up or not when Anna takes an extra long pause.

“Or you could just knock on the door like a normal human being.” Anna says, breaking into a laugh. “I’ll see you soon Cassie.”

* * *

Dean’s apartment is a good forty minute walk away, but Castiel makes it in thirty. He spends most of the journey picturing Dean’s room, trying to imagine what posters he has and whether he makes his bed or not. He comes to conclusion that Dean will probably have a Johnny Cash poster, considering how much he talks about him, and his bed will be made but not neatly, just the duvet thrown back and the top pillows straightened. He imagines textbooks piled next to the laptop, only a few chapters read of each, and a lot of CD’s, even though most of his music will be on his laptop. He can picture pots scattered around Dean’s desk, empty bottles of Mountain Dew and plates of left-over toast.

The entirety of Castiel’s brain becomes a blueprint for Dean’s apartment, and by the time he’s reached the traffic lights on the opposite end of campus, he’s wondering what colour the bed sheets will be, and whether he’ll ever be able to find out. For all he knows there could be a lock on his door, and if there is then he’s almost entirely sure that Dean would have locked his room – he lives with Crowley, after all. He wonders if he’s taken all of his clothes or left some in the closet, jumpers and shirts he hasn’t worn in months. He wonders if they’ll still smell of him, of Dean Winchester six months ago. Maybe they’ll smell of a girl’s perfume, and next to them will be his abandoned baseball shirt. He wonders if there will be post-it notes or if that’s just an obsession that only Castiel has. He knows there won’t be a diary, or a journal, or anything that gives away his thoughts. But the room will speak for him, and Castiel really can’t wait to see it, to compare it to his own.

This is when Castiel’s mind slowly drifts back to his own room, and he wonders what Dean thought of it when Castiel first invited him round. He wants to call him up and ask, he wants to know what stood out, what it said about Castiel’s character. Castiel has two posters, one world atlas and one that he got given at the Fresher’s Fair in his first year, it reads ‘Chase your own tale’, and Castiel assumes it’s supposed to be motivational or something. The desk is usually fairly neat, with no pots because he tries to only eat downstairs. His laptop is clean and polished and the webcam has blue-tac over it so that no one can hack into the network and watch him. He has a lot of books, around 150, ranging from The Hunger Games and Harry Potter to Charles Dickens and E. M. Forster. Then there’s his textbooks, his huge anthologies of English Literature, the Norton Anthology of Poetry, the Oxford Literary Terms, and, of course, his three year old dictionary. He figures all this really says is that he studies English, and is a bit of a hoarder.

What really speaks his mind is the post-it notes and the journal he keeps under his bed. The post-it notes are his way of taking the thoughts out of his mind and putting them on paper, and if he doesn’t want to read them back then he just throws them in the bin. His counsellor told him to imagine that the post-it note is a way of taking the thought completely from his brain, free to be destroyed. That’s all well and good, but sometimes he has happy thoughts too, thoughts he doesn’t want to throw away. And sometimes his sad thoughts are worth keeping, to remind himself that things _do_ get better. He keeps poetry on them too, his favourite lines from plays, his favourite inspirational quotes. On three different post-it notes he’s written ‘ _Don’t make a permanent decision for your temporary emotion_ ’, a rule he tries to live by. Then there are the post-it notes about Dean: ‘ _Dean prefers hot chocolate to coffee’, ‘Dean quite possibly has a crush on Moby’, ‘Dean loves The Beatles and says that anyone who thinks they aren’t the greatest band ever should reconsider the meaning of life’, ‘Dean pretends he doesn’t like Ezra Pound’s poetry but he totally does’, ‘Dean is amazing.’_ These are all of the memories and thoughts that Castiel never wants to throw away.

“Castiel?”

Castiel shakes himself out of his daze, and in front of him is Anna in her pyjamas, stood in the doorway to what must be Dean’s apartment.

“You’re in another world,” Anna comments, moving to let Castiel inside. Castiel smiles, laughing a little.

“Yeah, I was thinking about post-it notes.” He says, his eyes already scouting the apartment. Anna gives him a look.

“I’m not even going to ask why you think about post-it notes.” She hugs him and leads him through to the kitchen. The apartment is one floor, with two bedrooms, a small living area, a kitchen, and a bathroom.  A majority of the walls are painted white, but it’s cosy and there’s carpet in the living room and a big TV. Castiel’s gaze instantly falls on the mountain of CD’s.

“They’re Dean’s.” A voice says, and Castiel smiles as Crowley appears at his bedroom door, his hair dishevelled and his face pale. “I’d come out and say hello but I’ve caught the bubonic plague.”

“He’s so over-dramatic.” Anna says, signalling for Castiel to take a seat on the cream sofa. “Do you want a drink?” Castiel nods.

“Um yeah, I’ll just have a black coffee if that’s okay?”

“Sure.” Anna smiles, disappearing into the kitchen. “It’s two sugars right?” She calls out.

“Yeah.” Castiel answers, turning back to Crowley. “So how did you catch the bubonic plague?”

“Probably Anna.” Crowley says, wincing as he leans against the door frame. “She doesn’t wash enough.”

“I heard that you asshole!” Anna calls from the kitchen. Crowley laughs.

“I love you really!” He shouts, and Castiel grins at the gesture.

Anna comes in a few minutes later with two black coffees, handing one to Castiel and the other to Crowley. Castiel brings the mug to his lips, sipping gently.

 “Right, I’m going back to bed. Feel free to do whatever you want.” Crowley says, wiping his runny nose on his dressing gown. He uses his free hand to point to the door next to his own. “That’s Dean’s room if you wanted to go and, you know, masturbate.” Castiel almost chokes on his coffee.

“Go back to bed you disgusting piece of grime.” Anna frowns, shaking her hand. “I’m sorry Cassie, don’t listen to him, he thinks that he has the right to say whatever he likes because he’s ill.”

Crowley disappears into his room, calling out that he has the right to say whatever he likes because he’s awesome.

Anna and Castiel pass the next hour in the living room with a game of Call of Duty on Crowley’s XBOX. They are both as bad as each other, and half way through decide to bend the rules and make up games of their own. Castiel decides to name his character Commander Sparrow, and Anna plays along, naming her character Captain Spud. They make up back stories and decide they were both sent to war as a punishment for the horrendous crimes they committed at home. Within the hour, Commander Sparrow and Captain Spud are serial killers, but instead of killing other people at war they are put in arenas where they have to kill each other, and at the end of each day they re-spawn, ready to kill again. Captain Spud claims victory, and Anna even makes medals out of tin foil and shoe laces.

“And here we have our respectable silver medallist.” Anna says, forcing Castiel to stand on the sofa and look proud while she puts a tin-foil medal over his head. He takes a bow as Anna claps and cheers. “Speech, speech!” She cries.

“It wasn’t an easy journey.” Castiel says, sighing dramatically, “It was tough, and it required a lot of training, a lot of... perseverance. I feel proud to have come second to the great Captain Spud, and this medal will stay with me always. I’d like to thank my family, my friends, and my country. God bless America.”

Anna jumps up on the sofa and they both cheer together, holding their medals in the air.

“Well that was fun,” Anna says, breathless from laughing so much. Castiel grins, collapsing back into a seated position.

“It was. We should get an XBOX next year.”

“We will.” Anna picks up her cell phone to check the time. “I better go and see how Crowley’s doing. I won’t be long, stick the TV on or something.” She shoots him a friendly smile before heading into Crowley’s room.

Castiel sits very still on the sofa for a few minutes, his hands flat on his knees. He can hear Anna waking Crowley up, asking him how he’s feeling, and knows she’s probably going to be a while. His heart starts racing, and before he can take control of his legs he’s at Dean’s door, and it isn’t locked.

Dean’s room is exactly how Castiel pictured it. The bed isn’t made properly, but the quilt has been thrown back into place, and the bed sheets are a deep purple. The bed sits in the middle of the room, against a wall that has a Johnny Cash poster and a Led Zeppelin poster. Opposite the bed is Dean’s desk, a little cluttered with textbooks and empty bottles of Mountain Dew. Castiel moves closer, letting his fingers brush the corner of the desk. He feels scared and excited to be here, especially without Dean, and just the touch of the cold metal desk makes his heart leap into his throat, because Dean has been here, even before they met Dean has been here. So he sits at the desk, staring at an empty space where Dean’s laptop should be, and he puts his hands on the leftover textbooks, the empty bottles, the cologne bottles, the black mug which holds all of Dean’s pens and pencils. It feels like unwrapping a really amazing present on Christmas Day, and with every layer he takes off, something more wonderful lies beneath.

Castiel automatically moves from the desk to the closet, which stands high and mighty next to the window. He peers inside and is met with Dean’s scent. He tries not to smile so much at the sight of Dean’s work clothes, but he can’t help it, and he reaches out for them, rubbing the fabric of the grey apron between his fingers. It smells like The Coffee Shop and Dean’s cologne and Kansas rain. There are clothes at the bottom of the closet, jumbled together into a messy pile which Castiel assumes is his dirty laundry. Then there’s underwear on the top shelf, with socks and the shirts he likes to sleep in. He takes it all in, bit by bit, and when he closes the closet door he turns to the centrepiece of the room; Dean’s bed. He sits on the edge, hesitant at first, but the silk sheets make his legs weak and before he knows it he’s lying down and imaging Dean next to him. It’s so wonderful that he gets up to turn off the lights and lies back down again, closing his eyes and turning his face into the pillow to smell it. It smells like boy, like male shampoo and male cologne and that musty boy smell when you’ve been out in the rain too long. Castiel inhales it for a while, relishing the comfortable silence that washes over the room.

Somehow his mind drifts to post-it notes, and Anna is at the front door again, telling him he needs to see someone about his strange obsession, and Castiel is laughing because this is what he tried to tell Dean about his obsession with Moby, but Anna doesn’t know that, and she’s frowning at him and not letting him in inside. So he goes to see his counsellor, who just happens to be free when Castiel turns up, and he tells his counsellor about his family, and he tries to tell him about Michael, but he can’t because he can’t remember his name, and he keeps trying to say his name but it won’t come out. Dean stands at the back of the room, listening in, and Castiel can’t see him but he knows he’s there. And when Castiel starts crying out of frustration, Dean comes forward and kisses him, and then they’re in Castiel’s bedroom. Dean is lying on Castiel’s bed and he’s talking about flirting with the girl at work to get his attention, and Hollaback Girl is playing in the background. Suddenly Castiel is reading poetry on frozen grass in a field, and Dean is on top of him, making out with him, and he pulls Castiel’s shirt off but somehow he doesn’t feel the cold, he just feels weightless.

 He wakes up at 18:42. Someone has been in and covered him with a blanket, and there’s a note propped up on the bedside table that says ‘I totally got a photo!’, he grabs it and screws it up, letting his hand fall back onto the bed.

“Oh you’re awake.” Castiel opens his eyes again to find Anna at the doorway, peering in with a mischievous grin. “Did you get my note?”

“Go away.” Castiel murmurs, burying his face in the pillow. Anna decides that she’s going to be the bestest friend ever and jumps on the bed, pulling the duvet high out of Castiel’s reach.

“WAKE UP LITTLE CASSIE.” She shouts, dancing around his legs like a lunatic. “IT’S OUR LAST NIGHT TO BE DOUCHEBAGS; WE’RE GOING FOR A DRINK!”

Castiel groans and pulls himself out of the bed. It’s only then that he realises he’s not in his own room, and a hot blush creeps up his neck as he takes in the unfamiliar surroundings. “Shit.” He whispers, looking down at Dean’s crumpled bed sheets. “I forgot I was here.” Anna laughs, throwing the duvet over his head.

“Get ready, we’re going to The Onyx for some drinks, Crowley needs a pick-me-up.”

* * *

Castiel wakes up the next morning in his own bed, groggy and a little hung-over. He’s disappointed when he rolls over on to blue bed sheets instead of purple, and to make things worse the alarm clock is screaming at him from across the room.

He grabs some breakfast and packs the rest of his things, checking the apartment one last time to make sure he hasn’t left anything behind. His cat sits calmly on his sofa, her eyes big and blue.

“Where the hell have you been?” Castiel says, walking across the room to give her a cuddle. “I haven’t seen you for weeks, I thought you’d found a new home.” The cat purrs, licking Castiel’s fingers. “Well, I’ve left you some food out. I take it you can take care of yourself now, so be good.”

The cat jumps up onto the windowsill as Castiel is climbing into his taxi. He looks back, smiling at her, and takes one last fleeting glance of the house.

* * *

His train is late. Somehow he’s not surprised; his train is always late. He takes a seat in the waiting room of the train station and pulls Sense and Sensibility to pass the time. Two old ladies sit opposite him, talking about their grandchildren, and one of them pauses to ask Castiel if he’s enjoying the book. Castiel sighs, waits for one of them to say something about it being for girls, but they don’t, and Castiel smiles and politely replies that he’s finding it very interesting.

“Are you going anywhere nice?” One of the women asks. She’s a little on the frail side and she doesn’t have much hair, but she reminds Castiel of his nan, so he puts down his book and offers her a friendly nod.

“I’m going back home to see my family for Christmas.” He answers, and something in his chest tightens.

“Oh, that’s lovely.” She says, and the lady next to her nods in agreement. “You have ever such lovely eyes. You look just like my boy did when he was a young man.” Castiel smirks, blushing.

“Thank you.”

“You have a nice day, and enjoy the time you have with your family.” The old lady gets up, slowly moving across the room with her suitcase. “There won’t be much of that when you’re older.”

Castiel watches the pair of them leave the waiting room before glancing up at the departures screen. His train is due any minute. He takes a deep breath and calls his mom to let her know he’ll be home within the hour.  

* * *

 


	19. Lights Out, Words Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The calm before the storm! Sorry if the story is taking a while to move on, Michael will make his grand appearance in the next chapter!

It’s almost 3pm by the time the train finally arrives. The station is grim, but then it’s always been grim. Strewn with smashed bottles and empty food cartons, Castiel is so proud to call this place home. The other passengers push past him, knocking their suitcases into his knees and not bothering to issue an apology. Castiel finds himself being shoved against the back wall as people rattle through the station, anxious to get to their pre-booked seats. Someone calls out to him but he doesn’t catch the words, just the slur of a drunken dig. He thinks it might be someone he knew from school but the assailant is gone before Castiel can get a good look.

Once the rush has died down, Castiel begins searching the station as productively and mechanically as possible, wondering where on earth his mom is. He scans what’s left of the crowd for the round face of his mom, the rosy cheeks and dimples and blue home-made sweaters. The sense of homelessness sits in his stomach like a bad meal as he navigates the station, checking in and out of the cafe, the waiting rooms, the booking office. Outside the toilets a woman with scraped back hair and two children gives him the once over, scowling at his lingering presence before ushering her children away from the bathroom and the strange boy stood outside. The children look back as they walk away, a hard frown bracing their skinny faces. Castiel is about to pull out his cell phone when a familiar voice echoes down the hallway of the bathroom.

“I told you to go before we left for the station. You never listen to me, do you?”

It’s his mother’s voice, and Castiel turns to see her with Gabriel, lecturing him about needing the toilet when Castiel’s train is due any moment. Gabriel scowls at the floor, deliberately dragging his feet, and when he looks up a grin stretches wide across his face. He breaks away from his mother’s hand and runs at Castiel with a force that almost sends both of them flying.

“Gabriel!” Castiel grins, bending down to pull his brother into a tight hug. Gabriel wraps himself firmly around Castiel’s neck and squeezes, kicking his feet up around Castiel’s waist. “You’re too big for that now, buddy.” Castiel laughs, ruffling Gabriel’s hair. This is when he’s met with another force, larger this time but not as constricting. It’s his mother, cradling him before he can even stand up properly. “Hey, mom!” Castiel breathes in her homely scent and feels himself relaxing.

“I missed you!” His mom says into his neck, and Castiel hugs her tight, keeping an arm around Gabriel’s waist.

“I missed you too.”

The drive from the station back to Castiel’s house is filled with questions about university and Anna and whether Castiel has been eating properly and getting enough sleep. Castiel laughs it off, trying to reassure his mom that he’s fine and he’s doing okay and he’s been eating his fruit and taking his vitamins – even though he hasn’t. She stops at the traffic lights and holds his face in one hand, frowning.

“You look skinnier.”

Castiel pulls his jaw out of her motherly grasp, a mischievous grin lighting up his face.

“I guess you’ll have to make me a huge welcome home meal then.” He says simply, rooting through the glove box for a CD to listen too. He finds himself blushing because he knows he’s making the same faces that Dean makes when he wants something.

“I was going to make a beef stew.” His mom says, suddenly looking concerned. “Or would you rather I did something else? I can go to the supermarket on the way home and pick you some fresh rice up if you want?”

“Mom it’s fine, I love stew.”

“You love rice, too. I should have made you some rice.” She frowns at the windscreen, turning left from the freeway into Castiel’s home town.

“Stop worrying, I’m more than happy with beef stew.” He says, smiling to show he’s genuinely okay with the beef stew. His mom smiles back, patting his knee. They sit in silence for a few minutes, Gabriel playing with his Nintendo DS in the backseat.

Castiel takes in the familiar sights; the high school he attended, the art museum, the McDonald’s where he first got thrown into a garbage bin for being gay. They pass the church too, and Gabriel’s pre-school.

“I hope I made enough.” His mom says as they pull into the driveway of Castiel’s house, her face still set in a frown. “I should have, I mean, there’s only four of us.”

Castiel’s stomach instantly drops. Michael is home.

He only just makes it to the bathroom before he throws up.

* * *

Castiel’s room is exactly how he left it; bed made, curtains open, desk polished. There’s a groove in his bed like someone has sat on it recently, so he smoothes it out and throws his case down onto the floor. While his mom makes tea and Gabriel watches TV, Castiel decides he might as well get on with unpacking. With a sigh he unzips the case and starts pulling out folded shirts, humming along to the Scala & Kolacny Brothers album playing from his mom’s stereo in the kitchen.

Whilst unpacking he remembers the two gifts at the bottom of his case, both from Anna and both wrapped in Bob the Builder birthday wrapping paper. There’s a tag attached to the first one that says ‘To Castiel, Merry Christmas pumpkin, love the bestest friend in the world xox’ and the other one just has ‘Cas’ scrawled in permanent marker across Bob the Builder’s face. Castiel takes them out and feels them with curious fingers; one is small and square and hard, and Castiel can tell it’s either a CD or DVD, but the other is soft and misshaped, so it could be anything. He places them on top of his wardrobe and starts fretting about whether his own gift was good enough. As he’s surfing the internet on the bed for ‘best things to buy girls’ he realises he’s been majorly distracted from unpacking, and closes his laptop to get back to the folded clothes.

“What are you doing, Castie?” Gabriel pokes his head in the door, clad in Iron Man pyjamas. Castiel is sat on the floor, sorting the last of his clothes into the wardrobe. He beckons for Gabriel to come sit next to him.

“Just unpacking my university things. What are you doing?” He asks, noting the way Gabriel copies his cross-legged seating position.

“Come to see what you’re doing.” Gabriel says, rubbing his eye.

“Tired?” Castiel smirks, glancing at the clock. It’s only 5.32pm and they haven’t even had tea yet. He wonders just how early Gabriel gets up in the morning. Gabriel shakes his head, sighing.

“Eyelash.”

Castiel leans over Gabriel’s face to blow gently into his eye. “All gone.”

“When will Michael be back?” Gabriel asks, pulling his knees up to his chest. Castiel looks down at his case and sits very still.

“I’m not sure.”

“He’s at his girlfriend’s house.” Gabriel screws up his face, “She’s yucky.”

“Have you met her?” Castiel looks up as Gabriel pulls more disgusted faces and climbs up onto his knees.

“Not much. She comes for tea sometimes when mom says it’s okay. She has her own house and red hair like your university friend.”

“Anna?”

“Yeah, Anna, but that’s not Michael’s girlfriend because she’s called Naomi. She wears spiky things and big black boots that stomp on the floor and scare me.” Gabriel frowns, and Castiel pulls him into a one-armed hug. “I’m happy you’re home Castie.”

“Me too.” Castiel swallows, his arm pulling his brother protectively against his side. “Does mom like Naomi?”

“Not much.” Gabriel wiggles out of Castiel’s grasp and picks up one of the textbooks lying on the floor. “She’s not allowed to sleep over like my friends are, so Michael stays at her house a lot. He wants to live with her.” He opens the book to a random page and runs his finger along the text. “What does that say Castie?” Castiel closes his eyes and rubs the tense skin above the bridge of his nose.

“Does she come here a lot?”

“Not much.” Gabriel gets up to jump on Castiel’s bed with the book.

“Stop messing, Gabe,” Castiel grabs his wrist before Gabriel makes it on to the bed, “Listen, does Michael ever be nasty to you?”

“Not much.” Gabriel says quickly, trying to free his wrist.

“What does that mean? Is he sometimes nasty?”

“I said not much.” Gabriel sticks his bottom lip out and uses his knees to give him leverage up onto the bed. Castiel keeps hold of his wrist, trying to pull him back on to the floor. Gabriel struggles, whining.

“What does he say?” Castiel pulls harder now, trying to get Gabriel to stop squirming and answer his questions. “Gabriel, let go on the book and answer me, what does Michael do to you?”

“YOU’RE HURTING ME!” Gabriel shouts, tears welling up in his eyes as he tugs harder. Castiel immediately lets go of his wrist and Gabriel runs out of the room, leaving the textbook open on the bed. Castiel goes after him, trying to apologise, but Gabriel shuts himself in his room and sits in front of the door.

“What’s going on up there?” Castiel’s mom calls from the bottom of the stairs when Castiel has to bang hard on Gabriel’s door to get him to open up.

“It’s fine, mom.” Castiel answers, pushing against the door to move Gabriel out the way. “I’m just talking to Gabriel.”

“What’s he crying for?” His mom asks, and Castiel can hear her coming up the stairs. He can feel his heart racing as Gabriel cries harder; this wasn’t supposed to happen, Castiel just wanted to know what Michael had been doing, and now he’s the mean one, the one that’s making Gabriel cry. “Castiel why is your brother crying?” Castiel can see her now, heading down the hallway to where Castiel is pushing the door open while Gabriel sits on the other side trying to keep it shut.

“CASTIE HURT ME!” Gabriel cries, opening the door now and running out into the protective arms of his mother. Castiel’s mom sweeps him up and kisses him on the head, scowling at the red marks on his wrist.

“What happened?” She says, shooting Castiel a serious look. Castiel slumps against the wall, bringing his palms to his eyes. He doesn’t want to cry, not now, not in front of his mother. And he can’t bring himself to look at Gabriel, so he looks at the wall ahead and tries to compose himself. Somehow he has to explain all of this, explain why there are red marks on Gabriel’s wrist and why he’s shaking and panicking because he can hear a key in the front door being turned. Somehow he has to explain why he can’t sit and eat with his family tonight, or why he locks his door whenever he’s in his room. He has to explain a lot of things, but not right now, because right now Michael is home and Castiel can hear him whistling, kicking off his shoes, running up the stairs. So Castiel bolts past his mom and into his bedroom, and he locks his door and turns on his music and ignores the twenty-odd times she knocks on his door throughout the evening.

* * *

When he wakes up, his throat is thick and groggy and he feels all disorientated. It takes him a moment to realise where he is, to adjust to the softer mattress and clean, crisp sheets. He sits up in bed and squints through the darkness, trying to work out how long he’s slept for. His alarm clock isn’t plugged in so he scrambles across the bed to get his cell from the dresser. It’s only 9.33pm; he’s barely slept at all. The memory of Gabriel crying comes back to him; he pulls his knees up to his chest and folds himself around them. How could he be so cruel to a child? His own brother? It makes him sick to think that he might have actually hurt Gabriel, even left a mark to prove that Castiel is quickly and surely falling off the rails. Without turning on the light, he dials Dean’s number and waits.

“Hello?” Dean answers, his voice an instant relief. Castiel rests his head on top of his knees and feels his heart tugging a smile out of him.

“Hi, Dean.”

“Everything okay?” Dean’s voice is soft and warm, and Castiel imagines him at home with his brother and his parents, watching the television or having a late-night takeaway. He images a fireplace blazing, Dean curled up on the sofa, his brother buried in a book beside him. Dean has never felt further away, and Castiel is physically aching for him to come back. But he doesn’t want to ruin Dean’s holiday, doesn’t want to confess to what he’s done because this is the only good thing he has right now. So he lies, and it hurts but it doesn’t hurt as much as Dean being disappointed in him.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” He tries to smile down the phone to make it sound more genuine. “Everything’s good.” Dean pauses, and Castiel hears him leave the room, shutting the door on the television and his brother and his family so that he can be with Castiel. It breaks him into tiny pieces because he knows that Dean knows he’s lying, but neither of them bring it up, and they continue talking about their holidays as though Michael doesn’t exist and Castiel isn’t almost in tears on the phone.

“I’ve been out with Sammy today. We just went to the mall because it’s been so long since we hung out. It was good, he was showing me his college applications and I gave him a few tips.” Dean says, his voice rising slightly from nerves. “I um- I told him about us.” Castiel closes his eyes, listening to Dean’s nervous laughter. It actually manages to make him smile. “He said he’s really pleased for me, for us. I told him all about you, how clever you are and how you like maps and books and history. He can’t wait to meet you. I told him about you teaching me poetry and I even remembered a few lines from your favourite poem.”

“Not Waving but Drowning.” Castiel smiles. Dean laughs.

“That’s the one. I remembered the first verse; ‘Nobody heard him, the dead man, but still he lay moaning: I was much further out than you thought, and not waving but drowning.’ He was really impressed; I’ve never had an interest in poetry before.” Castiel’s breath hitches, the lines of the poem ringing in his head. _I was much further out than you thought, and not waving but drowning._ He tries not to associate the poem with himself, tries to follow Dean’s interpretation of a man at sea who is simply drowning, but he can’t shake it off the image of himself screaming out for help where no one can hear him, because he isn’t actually making any noise.

“Michael’s home.” Castiel says, his voice broken. “I haven’t seen him yet but I heard him come in a few hours ago. I hurt Gabriel, he was on my bed and I grabbed him and pulled him off because he wouldn’t answer my questions and I’m so fucking stupid.” Castiel’s voice quickly breaks into sobs, he tries to choke out his words but he doesn’t even know if it’s making any sense. “I thought Michael was hurting him, but he wasn’t, it- it was me, I was hurting him! He cried and he wouldn’t let me in his room... and then I think I shouted at him. I shouted at him, Dean. I hurt him.”

Dean manages to calm him down enough for Castiel to tell him everything that happened, and it doesn’t take long for Dean to make him realise that he was doing the right thing, he had the right intentions, and that he’s _nothing_ like Michael. Castiel pulls the duvet up around his shoulders and listens to Dean’s soothing voice tell him everything will be okay, that he’ll be down soon, and that if Michael does anything, anything at all, then Castiel has to tell his mom. Castiel agrees, and at his request, they change the subject back to Dean and his day out with Sam.

Dean tells him about the new mall, and this awesome new 50’s diner where the waitresses look like they’re really from the 50’s, with the hair and make-up and uniform, and he tells him about the record player in the corner of the room which plays Elvis and Buddy Holly. They laugh about a movie Dean watched while on the train home, and Castiel even talks to Sam for a few minutes, chatting to him about his college application and his interest in Law courses. After forty minutes on the phone, Castiel feels like he’s ready to go and apologise to Gabriel.  

“Give me a text later and let me know how it goes.” Dean says, laid on his bed now with Sam across the room asking if he can speak to Castiel again tomorrow. “And Sam wants to know if he can speak to you again tomorrow?”

“Of course he can, I’ll give you a ring in the morning if you’re not busy?” Castiel smiles, picking at a loose strand of cotton in his duvet.

“We’re going to see our Gran in the afternoon but I’m pretty sure we’re free in the morning. So just give me a text to see if I’m awake and I’ll call you.”

“Okay, speak to you tomorrow.”

“Good luck!”

“Thank you, bye Dean!” Castiel turns off his cell and crawls out of bed to turn the light on.

Gabriel is still downstairs watching the television when Castiel plucks up enough courage to face him. It’s way past his bedtime but Castiel figures that he’s allowed to stay up longer now that it’s the holidays and he doesn’t have school. His mom is in the study room, talking to Castiel’s aunt on the phone. Castiel creeps down the hallway, past the study room, and into the living room where Gabriel is sprawled across the sofa in his Iron Man pyjamas. He looks up when Castiel comes into the room and immediately sits up.

“I’ve come to say sorry.” Castiel says, sitting next to him. Gabriel stares at him for a few seconds before shrugging.

“It’s okay. Mom says you didn’t mean to hurt me.”

“Do _you_ think I meant to hurt you?”

Gabriel’s gaze turns back to the T.V, disinterested. “No, I think you were just being grumpy because your train was late and you don’t like it when I jump on your bed.”

“Do you remember what we were talking about?”

“Yep.”

“About Michael?”

“Yep.”

“You said he doesn’t hurt you much.” Castiel lowers his voice, waiting for Gabriel to respond.

“He doesn’t hurt me much but neither do you but when you hurt me it’s not real hurt, it’s just you being mad at me for being naughty.”

“What does that mean?” Castiel asks. Gabriel continues to stare at the television. “Does Michael hurt you for real?”

“Not much, but just once, he shut the door on my fingers because I cried loud when he hid my Nintendo DS. Mom had bought me the new Mario that day and I wanted to play it but Michael hid it from me.”

“Does mom know this?”

“Yeah, she told him off. Then he went to stay at Naomi’s house for some nights. He always stays out now. I think he will live with her soon which is good because I like it when it’s just me and mom.” He smiles, and then corrects himself, “And you.” Castiel hugs him tight.

They decide to watch the rest of The Avengers before Gabriel has to go to bed, and when his mom finally comes through to the living room after Gabriel has gone up to bed, she doesn’t bring up the incident. Instead she asks him about Anna, about university, about his course and where he wants to go with his career. It’s a nice, standard conversation, precisely what he needs, and when he goes to bed at midnight he almost completely forgets that Michael is sleeping in the room next door.

 


	20. This Charming Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladies and Gentlemen, meet Michael.

Castiel manages to go a full week without a word to Michael. They bump into each other whilst making breakfast on the 16th of December, but neither of them say anything, and Michael takes his Fruit Loops into his bedroom while Castiel eats toast in the living room with Gabriel. Mostly, Michael stays at Naomi's house, or goes out joyriding with his alpha-male friends. Castiel's mom doesn't mention it, but worry lines appear deeper and thicker whenever Michael comes home drunk with more money than he went out with. Castiel and Gabriel try and stay out of the firing line, but Castiel can sense that things are about to get much, much worse.

On the 18th of December, Castiel wakes up earlier than usual and decides to help his mom finish putting up the Christmas decorations. Still in his grey cotton pyjamas, he pins one end of silver tinsel to the kitchen ceiling while his mom pins up the other.

"I would have had it all finished much earlier but with Gabriel having the flu and Michael playing me up, I haven't really had much time." His mom pulls another pin out of her apron and sticks it in the ceiling. Castiel holds tight on to his own end of the tinsel, looking across at his mom.

"Michael is 24, he shouldn't be playing you up, and he shouldn't even still be living here."

"He isn't," His mom says, sighing. "Not really. He's always at Naomi's house, or Zach's."

"You just said he's been playing you up though, what's he been doing?" Castiel climbs down from the chair he was standing up and picks up a Santa hat from the box of decorations. His mom follows, pulling out another rope of tinsel.

"Just the usual. Getting into fights, drinking all the time, arguing with me when I won't give him money. I won't pay for his alcohol addiction, I just won't. I've tried to get him to see someone but he just tells me to stop interfering."

"Why do you let him back in the house?" Castiel says, swallowing tight. His mom begins to tape the tinsel around the edge of the circular wooden table.

"Because he's still my son, and if he's not here then where is he? Taking drugs, no doubt. He needs to change, I know that, and I think deep down he knows that too."

"But he's violent." Castiel says harshly, throwing down the hat. "What if he comes back drunk one night and hurts you, or even Gabriel?"

"He wouldn't. He's not that bad, Castiel. I know you two don't get on, but he wouldn't hurt me, or any of you two."

Castiel can feel himself shaking with frustration. His mouth is full of all the things he's wanted to say for the past four years, but it's too much, and he doesn't want to ruin Christmas for everyone so he keeps his mouth shut and automatically changes the subject.

"Anna's got a boyfriend now."

"Oh." His mom frowns, moving over to place her hand on top of his. Castiel watches her apprehensively as she gives him a sympathetic look. "Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Castiel ventures. His mom gives his hand a squeeze.

"I know you and Anna were close."

"We weren't in love, though." Castiel says, disappointed that his mom is still chasing the insane idea that one day he'll marry Anna and have lots of little redheaded, freckly kids. "You know that, right?" His mom nods, rolling her eyes a little.

"You're a mysterious boy Castiel, but you're still my son, and I can tell when someone's on your mind. You were texting non-stop the other night, and the smile on your face told me you weren't just speaking to a friend. So if it wasn't Anna, who was it?"

"What? When?" Castiel blushes, trying to keep reign over his emotions.

"When we were watching Lord of the Rings, you were texting someone." His mom grins, grabbing the final piece of tinsel and draping it around his shoulders. "You going to tell your old mom who's been making you so happy?"

Castiel leans against the kitchen table, composing himself. He can do this, he can tell her, this is the right time and Castiel just has to  _say it_. Okay, so maybe he isn't really prepared, and this isn't exactly where he thought the conversation would go, but he figures it's just one word, a name,  _Dean_. Maybe followed by a short explanation.

_I met him at a coffee shop. He makes me caramel cappuccinos. He wore a suit to a Halloween party and called me cute. We saw a scary movie, he buys me drinks. He sang to me in the library and didn't mind when my kissing was bad. He lets me count his freckles. We read poetry together and go for steak nights at Montana Mike's. I think I love him. I think I love him and I want you to love him too._

What actually comes out of his mouth is something about parties and movies and freckles. But it's enough, because apparently in between the part about movies and the part about freckles, he mentioned Dean's name.

"Dean? As in the Dean that's coming to stay?" His mom gives him a confused look. Castiel takes in a sharp breath. "What's he got to do with this?" There's a harrowing moment of silence when Castiel just wants to cry, because he's already having trouble standing and the words haven't even left his mouth yet.

"Mom, I'm gay. I'm in love with Dean; I think I have been since I met him last year." The words are loose and fast in Castiel's throat, but they're there and they're out and he knows that his mom has heard him because she takes a step back. And that one step almost kills him. "I'm so sorry." He says, trying to stop the tears from spilling over. "I'm sorry I've let you down." His mom takes a deep breath, shaking her head. Castiel can practically see the disappointment in her eyes and he feels his heart shatter into a thousand pieces.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She says, throwing her arms around his tinsel shoulders. "I'm disappointed that you didn't tell me." She buries her head in Castiel's neck and Castiel holds her tight, unable to stop himself crying now.

"I was scared." He sobs, "I know how bad you wanted me to love Anna."

"I wanted you to be  _happy_." She says, her own tears about to spill. She puts her hands on either side of his face and kisses his forehead. "I only ever wanted you to be happy. No matter who with."

"So you don't mind?" Castiel says, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. His mom laughs softly, shaking her head.

"Of course not. As long as you're happy, I'm happy. I love you no matter what."

"I am happy." Castiel smiles, letting his mom dab his wet face with a wad of tissue. "I'm really happy. He's changed my life."

"Then I can't wait to meet him."

* * *

On the 19th of December, Michael comes home. Castiel is sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of Cornflakes, flicking through his English Drama textbook. He doesn't hear the front door click so he barely registers when the kitchen door opens in front of him; assuming it's his mom or Gabriel.

"Hey, faggot." Michael's voice rings through the kitchen, and Castiel drops his spoon in the bowl, his gaze snapping up to meet Michael's smirk. "Missed me?" Michael asks, throwing his satchel onto the counter and pulling out the box of Fruit Loops from the cupboard. He shakes the box and realises it's empty. Castiel tries to focus on the textbook while Michael kicks the empty box in his general direction. "Who ate my fucking cereal?"

Castiel remains absolutely still, reminding himself to breathe every now and again. His mind goes into overdrive and he starts taking quick glances around the room, noting objects he can use in self defense. He tells himself the trick is to stay calm, and he does, until Michael slams his hands down on the table next to him, making Castiel jump and curl up into himself.

"I asked you a fucking question. Are you deaf?" Michael shouts, pushing the textbook off the table. Castiel shakes his head, trembling but willing himself not to cry because that would just be the most hilarious thing in the world for Michael. He remembers from Animal Planet that the best thing to do when under attack is to keep very still, because the predator will think you're already dead and move on. Somewhere upstairs, they both hear their mom walking down the hallway, clearly coming to see what all the shouting is about. Michael laughs, grabbing his satchel from the counter and disappearing out the back door. "See you later, faggot."

Just as Michael leaves, Castiel's mom appears at the kitchen door, a furious look on her face. She takes one look at the crushed cereal box and textbook scattered at Castiel's feet and shakes her head. "What's going on? Can I not have  _one day_  without someone playing me up?" She picks up the empty cereal box and shoves it in the trash, failing to notice Castiel's terrified expression. "If it's not Michael out drinking then it's Gabriel screaming every time I make him have a bath, or you, just leaving trash lying around and shouting for no reason. I take it you were on the phone?"

Castiel nods, unable to form the right words to explain what just happened. He decides he'll wait until after Christmas to tell her, otherwise he'll just be making everything worse. Without saying anything else, he picks up his textbook, puts his empty bowl in the dishwasher, and runs upstairs to his room.

"Now where are you going?" His mom calls after him, sighing.

* * *

The night before Dean is due to arrive, Castiel can't sleep. He's too excited to even close his eyes, and he spends most of the night texting Dean and asking him what he should wear, and whether he wants to go grab a coffee first and then come meet his mom, or just get the meet and greet over and done with so they can shoot off back into town. Dean replies with 'I want to meet your mom first! I'm really excited to meet her! Can I hug her or will that be weird? Also I can't wait to see you. So glad I decided to get the train, it's saving me so much money on gas, plus we can do the train station slow motion reunion xx' Castiel rolls around in his bed, texting back and grinning to himself when Dean makes a joke about asking for Castiel's mom for permission to marry her son. He knows it's only a joke, but he ends up having to bite down on his pillow to stop himself smiling so much. After barely a few seconds, another text comes through: 'Can we kiss in front of your mom? I don't mind if you're not/she's not comfortable with that, but if she's there at the station when I arrive I don't know if I will be able to stop myself. Being at home has made me realise how much I miss the freedom of college, and more importantly, you. Xx' Castiel texts back that they can definitely kiss at the station.

The next morning, at 9am, Castiel takes an extra long bath and scrubs every inch of his lightly freckled skin. Michael hasn't spoken to him since their little moment in the kitchen so Castiel has had time to calm himself down and plan out exactly what he wants to do with the three days he's about to spend with Dean. Firstly, he figures he wants to spend as much time out of the house as possible, maybe go to the mall and see a movie, or even just go for a walk around the old Churches. There's a Christmas fair in the market place so he's already decided they can spend their last night there and then head back home after a walk through Grand Obi Park. It hasn't really soaked in that Dean Winchester is coming to visit him because he's been so pre-occupied with keeping himself away from Michael. But now he's giddy and excited, and maybe a little irritated that his hair won't go fluffy how Dean likes it.

His mom comes into his room fifteen minutes before Castiel has to leave for the station and offers him a ride.

"I was going to get the bus." Castiel says, glancing at the mirror in his room to make sure his hair hasn't fallen flat again. His mom laughs, moving across the small room to sit on his bed.

"I've never seen you do your hair for anyone before." Castiel blushes, immediately looking away from the mirror. A wary expression glazes his face, and his mom gives him a concerned look. "What happened yesterday, Castiel? Gabriel told me Michael came home and said something to you. I didn't know that."

"He didn't say anything." Castiel says, trying to keep his voice steady. He's got to leave soon and the last thing he wants to do right now is talk about Michael.

"Please don't lie to me. If he said something nasty to you, I want you to tell me."

Castiel tugs on his blue shirt and wonders if he's outgrown it. Maybe he should change into something else. He wonders what Dean will be wearing, and whether it will even matter. Dean has never complained about his choice of clothing before, so he's sure the blue shirt will be fine, even if it is a little short in the sleeves. Either way, he decides to wear a navy blue jumper on top, just to be sure.

"I want you to tell me what's going on."

Castiel turns to his mom and sits on the bed next to her. "Can I just have these three days with Dean? And we'll talk about it after? I just want to enjoy these next three days." He smiles weakly, and his mom nods, squeezing his hand. "And a lift would be lovely; Dean's really excited to meet you."

"I'm excited too. I want to meet the boy who keeps putting the huge smile on your face." She beams, kissing his face enthusiastically. "I love you, don't ever forget that."

"I won't." Castiel smiles, "I love you too." He looks at his watch and takes a deep breath, a nervous flush creeping up his neck. "It's almost time to go."

* * *

The station is packed out with people with suitcases who have places to be. A big screen on platform five says that Dean's train is on time, and due to arrive in twelve minutes. Castiel's mom rushes around, checking Castiel's clothes are straight and that there's nothing in his teeth. She even asks him if he needs to use the bathroom, but Castiel laughs and shakes his head, managing to appear strangely calm even though his insides are somersaulting.

"Will you recognise him? What if he's changed his hair?" His mom fusses over his collar and his jumper, brushing off any residue from Castiel's rushed breakfast.

"Mom, I'll recognise him. He hasn't changed his hair."

"Is he handsome?"

Castiel feels himself blushing again, and turns to the screen so that he doesn't have to face the question. Yes, of course Dean is handsome, Dean is actually the best looking guy Castiel has ever met, seen, or heard of. Even when Castiel would allow himself a few minutes of gay porn, he would never come across someone who caught his eye quite like Dean did. It was the charcoal apron with the little butterfly stain across his middle, and the green eyes dotted with diamonds that reflected sunlight straight into Castiel's heart. It was Dean's smile, Dean's touch, Dean's caramel cappuccinos, all of these things had Castiel falling head over heels within the first day.

"How did you meet?" Castiel's mom nudges him, and Castiel keeps his eyes on the track, waiting for Dean's train to pull in around the bend.

"At the Coffee Shop, where he worked. I told you in the car."

"But at what point did you realise you liked him as more than a friend?"

"I always liked him as more than a friend." Castiel laughs, beaming when the speaker announces that a train will shortly be arriving at platform five. "Even before we  _were_  friends."

"You're shaking." His mom grabs his arm, steadying him. An affectionate smile braces her lips. Castiel takes a deep breath.

"He's here."

A train pulls up at the platform, and suddenly there's people everywhere. Castiel stands up, his mom close behind, and begins searching through the moving masses. After a minute or two the area starts to clear, and there are only thirty or so people left on the platform.

"Cas!"

Castiel turns to the voice, the voice that he knows, the voice that he loves, and is met by a pair of arms engulfing him. Suddenly everything smells like Dean, and Castiel grabs tight onto the leather jacket. His heart is hammering against his chest, and Dean is holding him in his arms, and somewhere behind him Castiel's mom is almost in tears. And Castiel doesn't even care; he takes a small step back, gets a good look at Dean's eager face, and kisses him full on the mouth.

"I missed you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully no one noticed, but the first upload of this chapter was the first draft, so it had quite a few spelling/grammar mistakes. I've edited it so that's it's the newer draft, which hopefully has less mistakes. :) sorry!


	21. Wherein Lies Continue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'I have loved to the point of madness; That which is called madness, That which to me, is the only sensible way to love.'

“Did Lightning McQueen even exist when you were a child?” Castiel asks, hovering in the doorway of Gabriel’s bedroom while Dean nudges the end of the Cars rug with his foot. They’ve only been home for a few minutes but already Dean was badgering for a grand tour. Dean shakes his head, giving him a look that says he really should have known the answer to that question. Castiel blushes as he moves silently into the room, his fingers tracing Gabriel’s cabin bed and Power Ranger bed sheets.

“It’s like the perfect room.” Dean says, holding out his arms. Castiel moves into them, wrapping his own around Dean’s middle. It’s the first time they’ve touched since the train station, and Castiel can already feel the tension slipping away. At first he thought they wouldn’t be able to do anything in the house, at least not while his mom was in, and he wasn’t sure how comfortable Dean would be with him after two weeks of not seeing each other. Not to mention Dean has been at home with his friends, and Castiel hates to admit that he was a little bit worried Dean would slip back into his old roots. Apparently he had nothing to worry about, because Dean’s hand automatically slides up Castiel’s shirt, resting on the small of his back. Dean glances sideways out the window. “It’s snowing.” He says, and Castiel smiles against Dean’s neck.

“It’s because you’re here.”

“I am here.” Dean confirms, grinning. “I’m actually at your house. Who knew this would happen when you came into the shop last year and ordered a Moroccan Latte, eh?” Castiel leans back, looking up in amazement at Dean.

“How did you remember that?”

“Because there’s no such thing as a Moroccan Latte. I just made you a regular latte and served it with a slight accent.” Dean laughs. “I knew there and then that you were someone I wanted to be friends with.”

“I was trying to sound cultured. I think I heard it from a movie or something.” Castiel says, laughing himself out of his humiliation. “And we are friends, so my Moroccan Latte worked out after all.” He doesn’t know what else to call it right now, and he can’t quite bring himself to say the word relationship just yet. 

“I think we might be more than friends, Cas.” Dean laughs, kissing his hair. “Anyway, show me the rest of the house.”

Castiel takes him down the hallway to the guest bedroom, spending a minute or two pointing out where Dean can find clean towels, clean bed sheets, a spare toothbrush in case he forgot his own, and an extra blanket in case he gets cold at night. There’s not much furniture in the guest bedroom, just a basic double bed with old fashioned bed sheets and a big wooden closet. Castiel figures they won’t be spending much time in there anyway.

“Is it time to visit your room yet?” Dean asks, shooting Castiel an eager smile as he moves to the window and perches himself on the sil. The light falls across his face and illuminates every one of his tiny brown freckles. “I want to see where you sleep.”

“That’s creepy.” Castiel says, blushing when he remembers his little nap in Dean’s empty bed before the end of the semester. He leads Dean back down the hallway nonetheless, past Michael’s room and into the smallest room of the house. “Here we go; chambre à coucher,” Dean gives him a confused look.“It’s bedroom in French. See, I can be cultured.”

“You’re the most cultured person I know.” Dean says idly, his attention focused on exploring Castiel’s room. He looks around like he doesn’t know where to start. “You’re the most intelligent person I know, too.” Castiel fumbles with the hem of his sweater, not wanting Dean to see how happy that comment has just made him. 

Inside the room, Dean is like a child let loose in a playhouse. He has the same reaction that he had to Castiel’s university accommodation, wanting to go through all of the little bits and pieces that make up Castiel’s life. He starts at the desk, grinning at the post it notes. He runs his fingers along the edges of Castiel’s textbooks he brought home and smiles at the poetry anthology, mentioning that he read some more of the poetry Castiel recommended while he was at home.

There’s not much else on the desk, except for Castiel’s laptop and some old stationary. Dean picks up a pen from the pencil pot and scribbles something on one of the green post it notes, sticking it against the wall when he’s finished. Castiel moves behind him to read it. “ _Dean was here._ ” He reads out loud, and picks up the pen to scribble beneath it: _and Cas was here too._

They spend another ten minutes in Castiel’s bedroom. Dean sits on Castiel’s bed, his fingers splayed out in the sheets, and Castiel joins him. He watches Dean as he takes in all of Castiel’s ceiling posters – most of them literature quotes scattered like stars. There’s one right above his bed that he’s had for years. He made it himself in one of his school therapy sessions. Dean looks at it for a long time before saying anything.

“You did this.” Dean states, his gaze nailed to the poster in admiration. “It’s amazing.” A proud smile etches across Castiel’s face, but he tries to hide it because he doesn’t usually tell people that the poster is hand drawn. No one has ever asked before.

“I did it in therapy. I made quite a few, would you like to see the others?” Castiel can feel himself shaking a little. These are posters that he’s kept under his bed, purely for himself, for when he’s feeling low. No one other than his school therapist has ever seen them. 

Dean nods, glancing over the other posters, but his eyes fall right back to the center piece, and the quote that sits in the middle. “‘ _What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.’_ Where did you come up with that?"

“I didn’t.” Castiel says, pulling out a plastic box from beneath his bed. “Ralph Waldo Emerson did, he was an American poet. It stuck in my head when I heard it so I made a poster of it.” Dean moves across the bed, tucking his legs beneath him. Castiel hands him a roll of papers. “Those are some of the others.”

They sit side by side on the bed and look at the crumpled papers. Some of them just have the words on a page, but a lot of them have drawings too, abstract paintings of guardian angels and human figures. Dean spends a long time looking at each one, reading the quotes out loud.  
“ _Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the words, and never stops at all._ "

“Emily Dickinson. Another poet.” Castiel says softly, his hands folded in his lap as he rests his head on Dean’s shoulder. These posters have given him comfort in the past when he had nothing else. Dean turns to Castiel, a careful look in his eyes. Castiel thinks for a moment that he might be about to cry.

“These are lovely. I really love this one.” He holds out the one of painted black angels circling the figure of a man. The text at the top reads: _I have loved to the point of madness; That which is called madness, That which to me, is the only sensible way to love._

* * *

After a full tour of the house, and an overly long chat with Castiel’s mom about Dean’s college course, Castiel and Dean decide to spend the next few hours wandering around town. They stop off at the mall for some lunch first, and Castiel manages to find them a table that conveniently avoids two of his old school friends. If you could call them that. After lunch they do some shopping, dipping in and out of bookstores and sports shops and finally, an Apple store. Dean decides to buy himself some new Apple headphones as an early Christmas present while Castiel waits outside, replying to Anna’s manic text of ‘is he there yet? omg tell me everything? does your mom like him? I bet she does, your mom likes everyone. What’s happened with Michael? Is everything okay? How’s Gabriel? xx’

When Dean eventually manages to pull himself away from the beautiful world of Apple, Castiel leads him around the indoor winter garden, and they got lost in a conversation about politics. Castiel has a small amount of knowledge on the subject, but no way near as much as Dean. It’s not that Castiel is surprised that Dean knows so much, he’s more pleasantly pleased, because it feels like Dean is just getting more and more awesome with each day. And as the exotic trees tower protectively over them, he even finds himself reaching out for Dean’s hand to give it a little squeeze when he thinks no one is looking. Sometimes Dean doesn’t let go, and when they walk close, Dean moves closer, his arm slipping around Castiel’s waist at any chance he gets. It’s so blasé that Castiel is half way through giving his opinion on Obamacare before he notices that Dean still has his arm around his back, and there are people around, and that those people are looking.

“Dean.” Castiel says, moving away to indicate that although he appreciates the gesture, he isn’t comfortable with it in this space. “There’s people.” He explains, and even to himself the words sound pathetic. Dean looks at him for a second, and Castiel can’t read his expression. He knows he’s made a big mistake though, and he’s expecting Dean to move away completely, ignore him for a while, because Castiel is so pathetic that he can’t even walk close to another guy with having a panic attack. It’s like the library all over again. But Dean doesn’t look angry, he looks disappointed. Castiel can deal with anger, he’s dealt with anger his whole life, but the disappointment shatters him into tiny pieces.

“Sorry...” Dean begins, his eyes sincere. “I shouldn’t have done that--”

“No I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have... It was fine. I’m sorry.” Castiel says, taking deep breaths because he knows he’s now ruined the entire day. Dean stops in between two large bushes, large enough to conceal them from the other visitors, and pulls Castiel a little closer.

“Why are you sorry?” He asks softly. “I did something you weren’t comfortable with. You have nothing to be sorry for. I mean, we’re kinda just making it up as we go along, aren't’ we? So if there’s anything I do that you’re not comfortable with then you need to tell me. That’s the right thing, Cas.” There’s a moment of silence when Castiel simply doesn’t know what to say.

“Yeah.” He manages, his voice lost. He tries to say something more, that he agrees, that Dean is right, and that’s exactly what he wants too, but his throat is too dry and Dean is looking at him with big green bushbaby eyes. So Castiel just hugs him, not too hard, not a I-haven’t-seen-you-for-two-weeks hug, but more of a I’ve-been-looking-for-you-my-whole-life kind of hug.  


* * *

Back at the house, Dean meets Gabriel for the first time. Gabriel absolutely adores him because Dean gives him all the attention in the world, teaching him how to throw a baseball and listening to Gabriel’s explanation of why Iron Man is better than Wolverine. Dean even sits in his room for a while, shifting through Gabriel’s DVDs and giving him advice on which Power Rangers are the best. Gabriel insists that it’s the pink ranger, and Dean wholeheartedly agrees.

Meanwhile, Castiel stays downstairs with his mom, telling her about his day and showing her the new sweater he bought himself from the mall. She’s curled up on the sofa with a book, most likely a romantic comedy, and it takes a while for Castiel to actually get her attention.

“It’s lovely.” She says with a wave of her hand, not even looking at the sweater. Castiel stands in the middle of the room, frowning. He folds the sweater away back into the paper bag and decides to leave her to her book, running back up the stairs to see Dean and Gabriel instead.

Dean is sitting on the floor with Gabriel stood next to him, handing him his superhero toys one by one. Within ten minutes of being alone with Gabriel, Dean is clad in an Iron Man mask.

“Hey.” Castiel says, nodding to signal the mask. “I like the new look.” He sits down next to Dean and crosses his legs. Dean says something in response but it comes out jumbled in the mask.

“Dean is being Iron Man.” Gabriel explains, digging out his old Thor costume from his closet. “We’re being Avengers.”

“That’s so cool.” Castiel says, his mouth curling into a laugh. “Who can I be?”

“You can be Cap.” Gabriel answers, “But I don’t have you a costume yet because Mom isn’t getting me the shield until Christmas.” Dean lifts up his mask, an authoritative look in his eyes.

“You mean Santa is getting you it?” He says, and Gabriel rolls his eyes.

“Dean, I stopped believing in Santa like ten years ago.”

“You haven’t even been alive ten years.” Castiel points out. Gabriel pulls a face and sits down in front of Dean, clad with his old Thor hammer and helmet. Castiel is more than tempted to get a photo of the two of them. Gabriel sits quietly for a second, and Castiel can tell there’s something on his mind, something he wants to say. Dean fiddles with his Iron Mask as Gabriel looks Castiel in the eye.

“Mom said you are Dean are in love.”

Castiel stomach suddenly feels very heavy. Dean’s presence next to him is overwhelming, and Gabriel is looking at him expectantly, waiting for an answer.

“We are.” Dean answers easily, glancing sideways at Castiel to make sure this is okay. Castiel nods in agreement, a nervous smile breaking out. 

Dean just said they are in love. Dean loves him. Dean Winchester loves him.

* * *

Both Dean and Castiel are showered and in their slacks by the time dinner is ready. Gabriel is playing on his DS downstairs and Castiel’s mom is in the kitchen, finishing off the spaghetti carbonara whilst on the phone to her sister and dancing to Christmas music.

“Ah, you’re here.” She says as Castiel walks into the kitchen in his gray bottoms and a plain white tee. She clicks off her cell phone as Dean follows closely behind. “Have you seen your brother?”

Castiel takes a seat at the kitchen table, a permanent smile etched on his face because Dean loves him. Dean loves him and he said it out loud. Right now, nothing could ruin his mood. “I thought he was in the front room?” Castiel says as Dean takes the seat next to him. He thinks about the time when Anna tried to make them all a spaghetti carbonara but ended up having to get a takeaway because she’d burnt everything. 

“I mean Michael.” Castiel’s mom says. Dean looks across the table at Castiel, but Castiel just shrugs, trying to keep his cool. So far Michael hasn’t been home, and Castiel has been praying that he won’t come back until at least after Dean has gone home. In the midst of Dean being here and Dean loving him, Castiel had almost forgotten that Michael even existed.

“I didn’t realise he was here.” Castiel says cooly. He can feel Dean’s eyes on the side of his face but he can’t bring himself to meet them right now. Castiel’s mom grabs two plates from the cupboard and places them on the kitchen counter.

“He said he’d be home for dinner. I told him no later than 7pm. Do you want mixed vegetables in yours Dean?”

Dean looks from Castiel and his mom, wondering whether now is the right time to answer if he wants mixed vegetables. Castiel can tell he’s uncomfortable. Suddenly there’s a thick atmosphere and Castiel can feel himself choking on it. Gabriel runs into the kitchen, wanting to show Dean something on his DS. Dean looks from Gabriel to Castiel’s mom, and Castiel shifts in his seat because Michael is unlocking the front door, and his mom is saying, “Oh, here he is.”

Gabriel takes his seat opposite Dean, crawling up onto his knees so he can lean across the table and show Dean how good of a character Luigi is on Super Mario Kart. Dean glances at the DS, giving Gabriel a forced smile. Castiel is staring at the grain of wood in the table as his mom places a bowl of spaghetti down in front of him. Michael opens the kitchen door, throwing his satchel down on the floor. He ruffles Castiel’s hair on his way past, a little too rough, and Castiel feels completely humiliated. Patting down his hair, he starts shovelling down spaghetti, but out of the corner of his eye he can see Dean shooting daggers at Michael.

“Where have you been?” Castiel’s mom asks, adding mixed vegetables to Dean’s spaghetti. Michael ignores her, moving over to the stove to plate his own dinner up.

“Hey, Gabe.” Michael grins, wide and devilish. His floppy brown hair is extra messy today, and he seems taller. He pulls off his biker jacket and hangs it on the back of a chair, digging in the pocket for his cell phone. Gabriel stares into his bowl of spaghetti, frowning. Michael laughs when he doesn’t get a response. “What have I done now?” Already the air is tense.

“Just sit down, Michael.” Castiel’s mom pleads, ushering him into his seat. Castiel tries not to watch the scene, tries to focus on his spaghetti so that they can get out of here as quick as possible. Dean seems to have other ideas, and spends extra long winding the spaghetti around his fork, his hands clenched into tight fists.

“How’s the spaghetti, Dean?” Castiel’s mom asks. Before Dean can answer, Michael chimes in.

“Yeah, how’s your spaghetti, Dean?” He smiles wide, over the top, and stabs his own fork into his meal.

“It’s lovely.” Dean says, directing his response at Castiel’s mom. “Thank you.” Michael nods.

“No problem. So, who are you anyway?”

“Don’t be so rude, Michael.” Castiel’s mom sighs. “Dean is a friend of Castiel’s.”

“Fantastic. What sort of friend?”

Castiel drops his fork and it clatters against his bowl. Everyone falls silent for a second and Castiel thinks that everyone must be able to hear how fast his heart his beating. Michael laughs teasingly and decides to elaborate. 

“College friend? School friend? Met-on-the-street friend?” 

Castiel’s mom lets out a tiny laugh, as though this whole thing is hilarious, as though Castiel isn’t screaming on the inside.

“College friend.” Dean answers bluntly. Castiel can see the conflict in his face and knows that Dean is trying to be polite in front of Castiel’s mom, despite the urge to stab Michael repeatedly with his fork.

Gabriel looks up, his face completely stoic. “At school we have a teacher called Mrs. Barnaby and on the last day she showed us how to make paper snowflakes. You cut triangles into paper and then when you unfold the paper it’s a snowflake.”

“That’s lovely, Gabriel.” Castiel’s mom says, smiling. “Now eat your dinner, please.”

“How did you two meet?” Michael asks, and Castiel’s mom suddenly looks very excited.

“Yes, how did you two meet?”

“Mom I already told you this.” Castiel says, his voice gravelly and uncomfortable. “At the coffee shop where Dean works. Can we talk about something else?”

“How romantic.” Michael smiles. Gabriel smiles too, not noticing the sarcasm dripping from Michael’s voice.

“Mrs. Barnaby told us it’s okay for boys to love other boys.”

And Castiel wants to die. He wants to disappear. Or breakdown. Because right now he could climb the highest mountain or swim the deepest sea, but this, this situation, he cannot cope with. So he removes himself from his chair, his legs working mechanically beneath him. Before he realises it, he’s out of the kitchen, and he can breathe again. He’s running up the stairs, but then the kitchen door opens again, and he thinks it’s Michael coming to hurt him and humiliate him. So he makes it to his room and locks the door, his breath escaping in small sharp bursts. There’s a soft knock, nothing violent, and Dean’s voice seeps through the cracks.

“Can I come in?” He asks, and Castiel unlocks the door quickly, letting Dean in to his room. This is all he can manage, and even just opening the door seems to leave him exhausted. Before he can take control he’s on his knees, sobbing at Dean’s feet, crying the tears of a child who has been bullied for too long and knows it’s never going to stop.

Dean tries to pick him up, tries to tell him he’s going to make it all go away, but Castiel doesn’t listen, and when Dean pulls Castiel to his feet Castiel pushes him off, tells him to leave, and in a rage he snatches the poster from above his bed and tears it into shreds. Dean tries to stop him but it’s useless, Castiel is completely set on smashing up his room. So Dean leaves, and Castiel stops screaming long enough to hear him storming back down the stairs and into the kitchen. There’s a whole lot of shouting, and Castiel can hear Michael laughing hysterically while Dean demands that Michael leaves the room so that they can talk outside. Castiel’s mom is shouting too, asking what on earth is going on. Castiel finds himself moving down the hallway, down the stairs. He bursts into the kitchen, his face stained with tears.

“What’s he been telling you?” Michael demands, holding up his knife in defense. His face is screwed up with anger. Dean stands on the other side of the table, calmly trying to ask Castiel’s mom if she’ll take Gabriel out of the room. “WHAT’S HE BEEN TELLING YOU!”

“THE TRUTH!” Castiel shouts, his whole body tensing in a white-hot rage. “I told him all those things you said, all those things you did!”

“I never did anything!” Michael replies, his voice wavering slightly. Castiel’s mom ushers Gabriel out of the room, telling him to go upstairs and play, but her voice is broken and Gabriel refuses to go any further than the hallway.

“No, that’s just it. You never did anything, not when I was being bullied, not when I was being tied to a goalpost, not when your friends -- your older friends -- were ‘roughing me up’, you just stood by and watched like it was a joke. Is that what you told yourself at night? That it was all just fun and games? That hitting a fourteen year old child for being a little bit queer was just character building?” Castiel moves forward now, and Michael backs away, clutching his knife pathetically. “You tried to kill me, I’d hardly consider that as ‘nothing’, you tried to push me over the banister, barely two years ago, all because you couldn’t cope with dad walking out. You blamed me for being different. Newsflash, Michael, he walked out because he didn’t love us. He didn’t love mom, he didn’t love me, and he certainly didn’t love you, and what do you expect? You’re a bully, you’re a psychopath! You played mind games with me, and all this time I’ve been seeing people; counselors, therapists, doctors, and they never worked, and now I know why; _I’m_ the one who needs help, Michael. You are damaged in ways that I can’t explain, but you take it out on me, and you’re not doing that anymore, I’m not going to be terrorized in my own home, so either you leave and never come back, or I’m calling the police and telling them everything you ever did to me.”

Michael opens his mouth, ready to spit out another sarcastic comment, but nothing comes. He bares his teeth, trying to figure out a way to bite back.

“You have no evidence.” He says, after clearly weighing up his options.

“He spoke to counselors, he spoke to therapists, he told people. You won’t get away with this.” Dean answers, reaching out for Castiel’s hand. Michael laughs, and the look on his face is so sure that Castiel takes it like a stab in the heart.

“They can’t prove anything. Castiel can say what he likes to them, they probably all know he’s lying anyway. You really think you can fool people into believing all this garbage?”

“It’s not garbage.” Gabriel runs into the kitchen, taking hold of Castiel’s free hand. His fingers tremble in the safety of Castiel’s palm. “I heard you, and I videoed it on mom’s old cell. You tried to push Castie down the stairs! And I’ve heard you shouting at him too, and when you shout it makes him sad, and he doesn’t talk. I don’t like you Michael, I want you to go. If you don’t go then I’ll show the video to the police and you’ll go to prison.”

Michael looks at the knife, looks at Castiel, and suddenly he’s flying across the room. Castiel’s feet are frozen to the ground, but Dean steps in the way, tackling Michael to the floor. They become a mess of limbs and someone pulls back an elbow, delivering a punch. Castiel instinctively lunges forward and pulls Dean out of the fight, terror rising inside of him because he knows that somewhere between them is a knife. Gabriel screams, and Castiel’s mom rushes back into the room, screaming for Michael to leave. She has a cell phone in one hand and Gabriel behind the other.

“You have to leave!” She cries, trying to hold herself together. Dean stands on both feet and swears he’s okay, but Castiel frantically checks him anyway. There’s a bruise already forming on his temple, but Michael seems to have taken the worst of it, whimpering on the floor from his concussion. “I’ve called the police.”

“You believe him?” Michael asks his mother, clutching his head. He screws up his face when she holds a hand over her mouth and nods.

“Yes. Because Castiel is good.” Castiel’s mom answers, tears streaming down her face. “He doesn’t lie, Michael. He’s not a bully, or a thug, or a thief.”

“I didn’t hurt him.” Michael says, getting to his knees. Castiel stares down at him, expecting to still feel angry, but instead he just feels a mixture of relief and pity. Michael begins to cry, hobbling onto his feet. “I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

* * *

The whole thing is drawn-out, and Castiel just wants to go home. He’s been stuck at the police station for over three hours giving his statement, and now it’s coming up to midnight. Dean looks exhausted too, sat next to Castiel in the empty waiting room. He closes his eyes and folds his arms across his chest. The room is completely silent except for the low hum of the air-con above them.

“Gabriel and my mom are giving their statements now.” Castiel’s says, but his voice sounds alien even to himself. Everything feels different now.

Dean turns to look at him, his eyes soft. Castiel wonders if Dean still loves him, if this is all going to work out okay. He wouldn’t be surprised if Dean wanted nothing to do with him, after all his brother did just try to kill him. He tries not to let it show, tries to keep a straight face, because at the end of all this he’s gotten what he wanted; Michael is going to prison. Not just for what he’s been doing to Castiel, but for stealing cars, for being a public nuisance. Apparently the police department has been looking for Michael for a while, and now he’s here he’s being held accountable for all of those car thefts, for the time he mugged a teenager whilst drunk and high, and for the torment that he inflicted on Castiel for all of those years. It’s everything he’s wanted for the past five years, and yet Castiel still feels damaged, because now he’s going to lose Dean. 

“Come here.” Dean says, noticing the sad heaviness to Castiel’s expression. He holds out his arms and Castiels folds into them, his head finding his usual resting spot on Dean’s chest. Dean rubs his back for a while, not saying anything. Castiel wonders if this is it, if this is the end. He’s barely holding it together when Dean bends down to kiss his head. Castiel closes his eyes, ready to cry, because even the kiss feels like a goodbye kiss. “I want to ask you something.” Dean says. Castiel moves away, ready to take the blow.

“Sure.” Castiel says, not bothering to try and conceal the sadness in his voice. This is it. Dean is going to ask if they can just be friends, or if they can stop speaking altogether. Castiel should have seen this coming. 

“Will you be my boyfriend?” 

“What?” Castiel is so taken aback that he actually thinks Dean is being sarcastic. If there’s one thing he wasn’t expecting, it was for Dean to play such a cruel joke.

“If you don’t want to, that’s absolutely fine. I can wait, because I just want you to be happy. I want us to be happy. I want us to be together, officially.” Dean is shaking, his fingers hovering on Castiel’s back. He meets Castiel’s eyes and Castiel realises that he’s not joking, that Dean Winchester still loves him.

“I’ve never had a boyfriend before.” Castiel says innocently, and Dean laughs, letting out the tension. They both laugh together, and Castiel moves back into Dean’s arms, smiling. “I want that too. I don’t want to be afraid anymore, and you make me feel like I don’t have to be.”

“So is that a yes?” Dean ventures, biting his lip. Castiel grins, kissing Dean’s face and nose and forehead, and finally, his mouth. They kiss for a long time, not caring that it’s all going to be on CCTV.

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to treat you all with a 5,000 word chapter instead of the usual 3,000 :) so comments are much appreciated.


	22. How to make a Moroccan Latte with Dean and Cas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. It felt like no matter how many times I tried to write this chapter it wouldn't come out the way I wanted. I'm happy with this version though.

It takes Castiel a long time to get his head around things.

****

They all get home at around 1am. Gabriel hugs everyone and goes straight to bed, but Castiel’s mom stays in the kitchen for a while, consuming mug after mug of black coffee. Castiel doesn’t say much to her that night, because he knows it’s not the right time for such a long and heavy conversation, so instead he drops into his bed with Dean and turns out the lights. Everything is very quiet for a long time, and Castiel tunes his breathing with Dean’s. They fall asleep wrapped around each other, exhausted and still fully clothed. Castiel dreams about a green forest and Lightning McQueen.

****

When he wakes up, he can see through the gap in his curtains that it’s still dark outside. Dean is snoring softly next to him, his forehead resting against Castiel’s shoulder, and there’s the din of the television coming from downstairs. Castiel figures it has to be at least 3am, and he wonders why his mom hasn’t gone to bed yet. His mom has never stayed up this late before, and thought disturbs him so much that he has to think about the halloween party he went to with Anna to calm himself down. He remembers Dean wearing a suit, Crowley as the king of hell. Even the memory of Dean kissing the bunny-girl is still better than the thought of his mom, sat downstairs, crying into her coffee and wondering how she could be so blind.

****

The next time Castiel wakes up, it’s past noon. Dean is still asleep next to him, this time facing the opposite way with his arm twisted awkwardly behind his back. Castiel dislodges himself from Dean’s legs and sits up. He pulls open one of the curtains and the winter sunlight bathes his bedroom. Dean groans, rubbing his eyes.

****

“What time is it?” He mumbles into the pillow. Castiel smiles.

****

“I have no idea.”

****

“How are you feeling?” Dean sits up, his bed hair all over the place. Castiel has to look out the window because Dean’s voice is raspy and Castiel had already kind of woken up hard anyway.

****

“I feel good.” Castiel takes a deep breath, squinting at the white skies. He briefly wonders if his mom ever went to bed. “You’re here and Michael isn’t; today is a good day.”

****

“Today is a good day.” Dean repeats, and he leans over and kisses Castiel’s cheek. It’s a small gesture but Castiel finds himself blushing, touching his face where Dean’s lips have left a warm tingle. “What’s wrong?” Dean asks, smiling. He props himself up on his elbow and runs a finger idly along the outside of Castiel’s thigh. “I kiss you all the time.”

****

“I know. It’s just... do you remember what you asked me last night?” Castiel bites his bottom lip, glancing down at where Dean’s fingers are trailing across his hip bones. The touch makes his toes curl.

****

“I wasn’t drunk, Cas. I remember what I asked you.” Dean cocks his head to the side, grinning. His eyes flash boyishly and Castiel is just really happy that Dean is here, the kind of happy that he feels from the tip of his toes to the very strands of his messy hair. It’s a happiness that runs through his veins and gives him the motivation to get out of bed in the morning, to face the day with a smile.

****

“Good.” Castiel nods, smiling softly. Dean touches his stomach, his chest, and when he’s not looking and the room falls into a peaceful quiet, Castiel leans down and kisses him on the cheek.

****

They spend most of the day in Castiel’s bedroom, watching Game of Thrones and eating endless rounds of jam on toast. Dean talks about his family and their Christmas traditions: opening one gift each at midnight, leaving the figure of a star on the back of the front door, and leaving out the mistletoe in the kitchen, just in case. Castiel sits cross-legged on his bed, still clad in his pyjamas and chewing on a slice of toast while Dean talks about Sammy bringing his new girlfriend round. For dinner they decide to get dressed and visit Edison's Steakhouse. The waiter already knows Castiel’s mom so gives them a festive 30% discount, and as he serves the foods he brings over a piece of mistletoe, reassuring Castiel that one day that special girl will come along. Castiel smiles appreciatively, laughing. Dean grins opposite him, and it only takes a few seconds for the waiter to figure out why Dean is holding up the mistletoe above the table. When they fall back into bed together that night, Dean pulls the mistletoe out of his back pocket, making a scene of holding it above them every time he wants a kiss and asking Castiel if he can be that special girl.   

****

* * *

****

The mall holds a Christmas market on the Sunday - their last full day together - so Dean and Cas decide to take Gabriel out while Castiel’s mom spends the day with her sister. Dean makes a big scene about Castiel wrapping up tight and buys him a silly Christmas scarf from the first stall they come across. It’s red with green frills and white snowmen, and Castiel wears it the whole day. Gabriel walks in between them, holding on to their hands and occasionally - with Dean’s encouragement - swinging through the air. The clock tower in the center of the market sits covered in snow, and Dean gets a passerby to take a photo of them all in front of it, grinning like a true tourist. When Dean moves behind Gabriel to throw an arm around Castiel’s shoulders, Castiel leans into it with a wide smile. It’s such a hectic day that Castiel barely realises how much money he’s spent, and every time he turns around Dean is at another stall, buying another gift which he makes a big show of hiding from Castiel, insisting that Castiel will have to wait for them. Gabriel bounces between them, asking Dean questions about Sam.

****

“Do you think he will come and stay with us one day?” He asks, sucking on chocolate lolly Dean bought for him. Dean nods enthusiastically.

****

“Absolutely he will. You and him will be the bestest of friends.”

****

Their evening consists mainly of takeout pizza and Love Actually. After Castiel had accidentally let slip at the market that he’d never seen it, Dean insisted that they had to watch it that very night, because a) it was Christmassy and happy, and b) It’s one Dean’s guilty pleasures and as his boyfriend Castiel is required to indulge in said guilty pleasures. It’s at the word ‘boyfriend’ that Castiel finds himself tiptoeing down the stairs to fetch the DVD. The word sits on his tongue all night and leaves what Castiel can only describe as the most wonderful aftertaste.

****

When he gets back upstairs, Dean is sat cross-legged on Castiel’s bed with the angel poster in his lap.

****

“I have loved to the point of madness; that which is called madness, that which to me, is the only sensible way to love.” Dean reads, and then he reads it again, slower. Castiel perches on the edge of his bed, his hands in his lap. Dean keeps staring at the poster, his mouth straight and his expression unreadable. Suddenly, he turns to Castiel. “Have you ever loved to the point of madness before?” Castiel smirks, laughing softly. He reaches out for Dean’s hand.

****

“I tried to throw a boiling kettle at you.” Castiel says. He wants to give more of an explanation, tell Dean that it was because in his head he thought Dean was Michael, thought everyone was Michael. He wants to tell him that his biggest fear was always that he wouldn’t be good enough, that Dean would be disappointed. Castiel just needed to prove that he was capable of taking control, that he was a human being and a human being can only be pushed so far before they fall off the edge and break into tiny pieces. He wants to say all of this and more, but he can tell by the way Dean looks at him that Dean already understands. So he says very simply, “I couldn’t stand the idea of you being disappointed in me. If you were going to hate me, then I wanted it to be because of what I’d done, as opposed to what I am.” Dean’s eye widen, and he grabs Castiel’s hand tight.

****

“What you are is an intelligent, open-minded, genuinely kind and absolutely beautiful person.” Dean swallows thickly, a sadness tugging on his smile. “I want you to always remember that, Cas.” Everything falls silent for a moment while Castiel fidgets with his smile.

****

“Have you ever loved to the point of madness?” Castiel asks, curious. Dean nods.

****

“I was mad enough to push you away the first time we went to the library together, when we almost kissed down the physical education isle. I ignored you, put up a barrier for three days. At the halloween party I kissed that girl because... because I liked you so much that it scared me. I kissed that girl because, as horrible as it sounds, I wanted you to see, it makes no sense but--”

****

“--But it’s easier to be rejected for something you have control over.” Castiel nods, “I understand that.” Dean laughs a little, sighing at himself.  

****

“I guess we’ve both loved to the point of madness.”

****

“That which to me,” Castiel folds himself into Dean’s arms, smiling up at him. “Is the only sensible way to love.” Dean kisses his forehead.

****

“That it is, my little angel. Shall we put the movie on now? I think it’ll be a nice way to spend our last night, and it’s totally romantic.”

****

They watch the movie curled up in Castiel’s bed, a hot water bottle resting at their feet and a box of handmade Christmas candies at their fingertips. Dean quotes his favourite lines, and when the film is finished they have an in-depth discussion about how much they both love Colin Firth. When Castiel admits he hasn’t seen either of the Bridget Jones movies, Dean swears that his new year resolution is going to be to culture Castiel in the art of romantic comedies. Castiel shuts him up by kissing him repeatedly. Dean grabs him by his waist, rolling their hips together. It’s a grind that neither of them intended, but neither are willing to complain about, and when Dean does it again Castiel accidentally moans into the pillow.

****

“I--” Castiel blushes when Dean looks at him incredulously. “I’m not sure what happened there.”

****

“I think you just made a very sexy noise. What would your mother say?” Castiel laughs because Dean is simultaneously ridiculous and hilarious, and up close Castiel can see all of the tiny freckles smattered across Dean’s face.

****

“I think she’d be disgusted.” Castiel covers Dean’s mouth in tiny kisses, and they end up rutting together under the sheets, with Castiel moaning into the pillow and Dean biting down on Castiel’s shoulders. Their shirts get tangled and twisted, so when Dean straddles Castiel’s hips and stretches to remove his shirt, Castiel has to take a moment to compose himself. Dean leans back down, and Castiel grabs his hair in both hands, tugging it whenever Dean sucks the skin on his neck. They’re barely moving against each other for two minutes before Castiel is coming in his trousers, Dean following only seconds after. They fall asleep in a dirty, tangled mess.   

****

* * *

****

Dean has to leave the next day.

****

Castiel tells himself he’s okay, that everything is good now, he can cope. Dean was always going to have to leave, and Castiel was always going to have to speak with his mom. This was coming all along, but in between the winter walk around the market and his first ever mutual orgasm, Castiel had fooled himself into believing that this is how it would always be. With Dean holding his hand under the breakfast table, knocking their knees together whenever they bring up an inside joke. He thought that forever and always he would have Dean sleeping in his bed with total disregard for the guest bedroom, waking up with his head in the crook of Castiel’s neck, sleepy and blurry-eyed. But forever and always doesn’t last, because at 11am Dean has to pack away his things and call for a cab.

****

The goodbye is much quicker than what Castiel is hoping for, but the train sits ready to leave and they get to the station later than they expected. It’s all wrong; this isn’t the goodbye Castiel wants. He wants time, he wants to tell Dean how much this has all meant to him, how much Dean has helped him, because without Dean, Michael would still be here. Without Dean, Castiel would be more depressed than he’s ever been before - Dean has saved Christmas, he’s made good friends with Gabriel, he’s helped Castiel confront his fears - and Castiel wants to get all of these words straight in his head so that he can form a logical sentence and tell Dean thank you. But they don’t have time, and Dean is throwing his arms around Castiel’s neck, promising that they’ll see each other soon. Castiel kisses him hard, not caring that they’re in the middle of a busy platform. A conductor comes over and ushers the last lot of people on to the train. Dean is moving away, waving, and Castiel stands alone when the train pulls away, his fingers flexing with the sudden, miserable emptiness he feels inside.

****

Castiel gets the bus home. When he shuts the door behind him his mom is waiting in the hallway in her dressing gown, clutching a fresh cup of coffee. Castiel can tell she’s been crying again, and he knows that he can’t avoid her any longer. He has to tell her everything, every brutal detail, right from the very beginning, he knows that’s what she wants. So he does, they sit down on the sofa and she cries the whole time. Castiel remains mostly stoic; the words are unfamiliar in his mouth and it feels strange for him to say it out loud. It takes him by surprise every time he hears the word abuse, and he even tells her about the man who came on to him in the toilets at KU. Somehow the two stories fit together: Michael filming him tied to a goal post, and the old man grinding against his leg, they form a backstory of abuse and hurt and helplessness. When he tells her about the staircase and the notes in his locker, she takes his hand and sobs, leaning forward on the sofa to steady herself. Castiel sits beside her, squeezing her hand. He thinks that she’s heard enough for one day.

****

“You never knew.” It’s all Castiel can say, and it sounds pathetic and stupid and he knows himself that it’s no excuse, because she should have known, but Castiel says it anyway, in the vain hope that it might stop her from crying. “You never... if you had...”

****

“If I had,” Castiel’s mom wipes her eyes, snivelling. She holds tight on to Castiel’s hand. “If I had then I would have done something. I’d have, I’d have thrown him out myself. You know that don’t you?”

****

“Yeah.” Castiel nods. “I’m just glad it’s over.”

****

“I’m glad you have Dean.” Castiel’s mom takes a deep breath, her voice still shaky. She uses her handkerchief to wipe her face and Castiel smiles to himself. “He’s such a lovely, young man. You deserve someone like that, someone who... who can take care of you.”

****

“You take care of me, mom.” Castiel rubs her back, letting her fall against him. “I just didn’t know how to tell you. The important thing is he’s not here anymore. I’m happy now.”

****

“That’s what I want.” She chokes, “I want you to be happy, to be at KU doing what you love doing, with Anna and her boyfriend Rowdy, your friends. I want you to be with Dean, to be happy and healthy. I want Gabriel to grow up in a safe environment, where he can tell me if things aren’t right, where he can come to me for anything. I want things to be different this year, Castiel. I’m going to make changes.”

****

Castiel thinks about this for a while. He wonders what changes she could possibly make that she didn’t have in the first place. Castiel knew right from the start that he could tell his mom about Michael, it was never a case of thinking she wouldn’t do anything about it, or she wouldn’t believe him. It was never, ever her fault. It was just the way things were, it was Michael. But he figures maybe what she needs right now is to feel useful, to feel like she’s doing the right thing. So he nods, and he tells her that he will help make those changes.

****

* * *

****

On Christmas Eve, Castiel spends the night with his mom and his brother. They sit in the living room on the floor, talking about Michael, the good memories and the bad. Gabriel talks about the time Michael shut the door on his fingers, and Castiel’s mom covers his mouth with the back of her hand. Castiel tells Gabriel to pick a good memory instead, and Gabriel smiles and tells her about the time Michael carried him around the whole house on his shoulders so that Gabriel could pretend to be a giant. They all laugh at the memory, and after the conversation they sit in silence for a minute and say a prayer in the hope that one day he will get better and learn how to correct his mistakes. They then sit and have a late supper by the fire, watching Polar Express on the television because it’s Gabriel’s favourite film. By 9pm, everyone is ready for bed, so they leave a glass of milk and some cookies by the fireplace, and Castiel runs up the stairs to fetch his own presents for the tree. The big one at the bottom of the bag is from Anna, and the three on top are from Dean. Dean has left a present each for both Gabriel and Castiel’s mom, too.

****

Castiel shoots off to bed once he’s helped his mom gather the presents under the tree, and it barely takes him ten minutes to fall asleep. The bed is much bigger and emptier now, but there’s a sticky note stuck to the side of Castiel’s bed stand that reads ‘Merry Christmas, my little caramel cappuccino!’ and whenever Castiel reaches out for the warmth of Dean’s body and is met by cold nothingness, he has the note for comfort.

****

Christmas morning begins at 6am. Castiel is dreaming about angels and train stations when he feels someone jump up onto his bed, shaking him to wake up, Castie! He opens his eyes and his met with Gabriel beaming in his face, wearing his Iron Man mask and brandishing his Thor helmet. Castiel almost screams.

****

“SANTA HAS BROUGHT MY CAP SHIELD!” Gabriel shouts. Castiel sits up in bed as his mom comes into the room, flicking on his bedroom light.

****

“You going to get up? I think Santa has been.” She says, grinning. She’s wearing a Santa hat and her long red nightgown. Castiel sighs, laughing.

****

“I guess I don’t have a choice.” He pulls Gabriel up and off his bed, “Come on then Iron Man, lets go see if you’ve been good enough to get anything.”

****

Gabriel is the first to dive into the pile of presents, and Castiel’s mom lets him open three whilst she makes herself a cup of coffee. Castiel sits with her in the kitchen, wanting to wait a few minutes before starting on his gifts. They talk about dinner, and which members of their family they will be visiting in the afternoon. Gabriel runs through from the living room, wrapping paper in one hand, the Avengers DVD in the other, and an amazed grin on his face. Without saying anything, he runs back into the living room to fetch another present.

****

“This one is for you!” Gabriel shouts, putting a plump looking gift down on the kitchen table. Castiel’s mom smiles. The tag reads: ‘To Castiel, this is for being a good boy, love Santa xx’ Castiel rips the paper away and reveals a pack of two new black shirts. He holds it up the light, smiling.

****

“You said you needed some new shirts so I got you a pack of two.” Castiel’s mom sits a mug of hot chocolate down in front of him. Castiel beams.

****

“I did need them, and they’re lovely, thank you.”

****

After fifteen minutes Gabriel has already opened all of his presents. He’s brandishing his new Captain America shield, surrounded by various super-hero toys, new clothes, and three new games for his Nintendo DS. He opens his gift from Castiel and screams when he sees a new set of walkie talkies.

****

“Thank you so much, Castie!” Gabriel hugs him hard, already trying to get into the packaging.

****

“You both have a present from Dean, too.” Castiel says, reaching into the bag beside the tree and retrieving two presents. Castiel’s mom opens her first, smiling at her box of chocolates, while Gabriel flings off the paper to find a Spiderman snow globe. He absolutely loves it, and runs straight upstairs to put it on on his bed stand.

****

“Aren’t you going to open the rest of yours?” Castiel’s mom says, nodding at the bag of presents still waiting for Castiel. Castiel blushes, gulping down the last of his hot chocolate. He opens the rest of the gifts from his mom first, and thanks her for his new clothes, new DVD’s, and the new accessories he’d requested for his laptop. After he’s taken them all to his room, he opens Anna’s gift to find a writing set which includes two new notebooks, a portable reading lamp, some fancy new stationary, and a little pad of paper for quick notes. There’s a small joke present in there too; a pink book called ‘Secrets About Men Every Woman Should Know’ Castiel laughs at it, shaking his head. He leaves it on his bookshelf anyway.

****

Dean’s presents are the only ones left for him to open, and for some reason Castiel takes a very long time to get round to it. He knows he’s nervous in case Dean has gotten him something really awesome and expensive, and therefore his own gifts will look boring in comparison. Nethertheless, he sits alone in his bedroom and begins to unwrap. The first gift is a collection of small items from the market stall; an angel snow globe; a pair of knitted owl socks, and a set of cartoon animal egg cups. Castiel takes his time with each gift, placing it on the bed beside him before moving on to the next. The second gift is bigger and heavier, and Castiel’s feels his stomach tingle when he unwraps it to find a big book of poetry. It’s an old book with a dust cover, and Castiel spends half an hour flipping through it before moving on to the last gift. It’s a handmade ‘coffee kit’, complete with 10 small sachets of Starbucks sugar, 10 sachets of ground coffee, and a tub of caramel sauce. There’s a handwritten guide inside gives instructions on how to make the perfect caramel cappuccino. The title reads ‘How to make a Moroccan Latte with Dean and Cas.’ It’s the most perfect gift, and Castiel almost cries when he sees how much detail has gone into making the how-to guide.

****

Just as he’s fretting over his own gifts, a call comes through on his cell.

****

“Merry Christmas!” Dean shouts down the phone. “Thank you so, so much for my presents. I love them. The little mini car tool box is amazing, and it’s actually perfect size for my glove box so if I ever break down you might have technically just saved my life. And the John Lennon t-shirt is awesome, I’m gonna wear it every single day. As for the angel poster, I actually had to leave the room because I thought I was going to cry. I can’t believe you gave me that, I showed Sammy and he really likes it. I’m going to get it framed and have it on my bedroom wall. Thank you so much, Cas.”

****

“You’re welcome.” Castiel says, holding his face with his free hand to cover his grin. He thanks Dean for all of his own gifts, and they spend a while chatting about family and what they got from their parents. Dean is thoroughly hyperactive on the phone, and Castiel even spends a few minutes talking to Sam. Sam tells him how amazing the drawing is, and they have a nerdy conversation about Françoise Sagan and French novels.

****

It’s the kind of Christmas Castiel has always wanted. Just him, his mom, and his brother. They sit and eat dinner together until none of them can breathe, and then Gabriel goes off to watch his new DVD’s and play with his new DS games while Castiel’s mom tries out her new foot spa. Castiel sits in front of the television and calls Anna for a while, laughing when he mentions that his mom thought Crowley was called Rowdy. They talk for a long time, and Castiel tells her everything that has happened with Michael. Hearing her voice makes Castiel miss her a lot, and he realises that she might just be the sister he never had. To cheer him up, Anna ends the conversation with the final plans for New Year’s Eve, talking of alcohol and fireworks and a party on the hill.  

****

Castiel already can’t wait.

 


	23. Love Prevails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it is guys! The final chapter. Sorry it took so long, I've been super busy :( I hope you all enjoy it and I literally cannot thank you enough for all the positive feedback you've given me on this fic. I love you all insane amounts.

On the train up to Anna’s place, Castiel is in his comfort zone. The carriage is almost empty and he’s reading his new poetry book, the pages still crisp and new and beautiful. So far he’s earmarked fourteen of his favourite poems, with five that he plans to show Dean and two that he wants to get printed. There’s little green post-it notes on five of the pages, and each note has ‘Show Dean Samuel Winchester’ scribbled across the bottom. He already has the five poems memorised, and there is really no need to fold the corners and use a post-it note, but Castiel really likes writing Dean’s name a stupid amount, so yeah, he writes it five times.

 

The carriage is so very empty that Castiel dares to put his feet up on the seat opposite. He instantly feels rebellious and excited even though he knows full well that his shoes are clean. With the book propped up against his thighs, Castiel flips through the pages and decides that he’s going to keep his feet on the seat for the rest of the journey. Robert Frost and Philip Larkin reward him with beautiful words, and on page 96 Castiel finds another poem that he wants to show Dean.

 

The rest of the journey is relatively uneventful. No one passes by him or asks for the seat, so he doesn’t have to put his feet down, and when he’s finished flipping through the poetry book he resigns to staring out the window at the passing wind farms. They still scare him, just like they did when he was a kid, but the sight of them is so overwhelming that he can’t bring himself to look away. It’s after they’ve passed the wind farms that his thoughts drift back to Crowley and Anna, and whether or not they managed to see each other before Christmas. He thinks that Crowley would have spent a lot of money on Anna as a gesture to show how much he loves his beautiful, fiery dragon. In return, Anna probably would have gotten him something practical, like a watch or a new pair of shoes, and Crowley would love it regardless. A strong relationship, Castiel thinks, to say that they started out hating each other. At least, according to Anna they did, but according to Anna, Kanye West is a musical genius and John Keats is ‘kinda overrated if you ask me.’

 

The moment Castiel steps off the train with his backpack he barely has a second to compose himself before Anna hits him hard in the chest with her entire body and throws her arms around his neck. The smell of her Gwen Stefani perfume is a almost like a home comfort, and he drops his pack to hug her back.

 

“I’ve missed you!” She exclaims, and her hands are all over him, brushing his shoulders and messing with his hair. Castiel tries to dodge her motherly touching, but she’s a relentless as ever and she’s already lecturing him on the importance of brushing your hair, Castiel! Apparently, just because he has a boyfriend now that doesn’t mean he can let himself go.

 

“I’ve missed you too.” He laughs, letting her prod his stomach while she insists he’s definitely lost weight. “Are we finished with the full-body examination or would you like to check if I wiped my ass properly, too?” Anna looks both shocked and impressed at his comment.

 

“Castiel!” She slaps his shoulder, over-dramatic. “Where did you learn such foul language?”

 

“Probably from you. I’ve been with you for barely two minutes and you’ve already corrupted me. You’re a bad friend.”

 

“You’re a bad friend, I can’t believe you left it so long to tell me that Dean asked you out.” Castiel pushes his ticket into the machine that lets him through the barrier. Instead of waiting her turn, Anna pushes through with Castiel, and a security guard shoots them a warning look from behind his desk. Castiel is starting to feel like he’s already done enough rebellions acts for one day, but the simple gesture makes him smile, because he remembers when Dean did the same thing at the library.  

 

“I told you the day after he left. I could hardly call you at time and put you on a loudspeaker, could I?”

 

“Yes!” Anna grins, bouncing around in her yellow waterproof. Castiel laughs, and Anna hails them a cab because of the rain. As they crawl into the car Anna pulls out her cell and calls Crowley, letting him know her exact address. They both laugh about something, but Castiel assumes it must an inside joke because he doesn’t understand why Crowley cutting his fingernails is so funny, and when Anna starts blushing down the phone and telling him to stop being so rude, Castiel decides never to ask.   

 

Anna’s estate is much nicer than Castiel’s, with every other house donning an impressive swimming pool the size of Castiel’s garden. Anna points out that most of them are self-cleaning, and that it still annoys her that her parents won’t upgrade their own pool to such.

 

“They insist they don’t use it enough.” She says, sighing. The rain belts against the car window as she stares out of it at the passing self-cleaning pools. Castiel wonders if anyone has ever used their pools in this kind of weather.

 

“It’s winter. Maybe they’ll upgrade in the summer.”

 

“You can still use them in the winter.” Anna rolls her eyes, as though this is obvious. “We have a marquee for ours if we want to use it when it’s bad weather. It self-heats, too, but it’s completely useless because once you get out of the pool you’re absolutely freezing.” Anna considers this for a few moments, frowning. “I hate living here.” She says, “I’d rather live in the countryside, in a cottage like yours, with trees everywhere and fields and Christmas markets.”

 

“It was a good market.” Castiel smiles. “You can come and stay whenever you like; you know my mom adores you.” They decide that Anna will visit in the summer break, and Castiel will take her to the market and show her the fields and the cows. He warns her though that nobody has self-heating, self-cleaning pools, and she slaps his knee and moves her head to his shoulder.

 

After a few minutes of silence, Anna sighs and says,“I can’t believe Michael is finally in jail.” Castiel stares at the streaks of rain on the window. He still can’t quite believe it either; that his own brother could hate him that much. But once again, he’s waiting to be told how lucky he is, how happy he must be now. “That must be hard for you.” Castiel looks at her, waiting for her to continue. “Well, I mean, obviously it’s what you wanted, but it must still be hard. Your mom must be devastated, and Gabriel probably doesn’t even fully understand...” She pauses, lifting her head to meet Castiel’s sad smile. “Am I way off? You can tell me to shut it if I’m being insensitive.”

 

“No.” Castiel laughs, shaking his head. “You’re actually exactly right.” He lets out a sigh of relief. “My mom is upset, naturally. She thinks it’s her fault, and I mean, how can I really sit there and tell her she had nothing to do with it? It’s such a horrible position to be in; I don’t blame her at all, but I can’t pretend I don’t think she could have done more. It’s hard when you grow up believing your parents are perfect, and then slowly you realise they’re not.” Castiel’s voice rises, “They make mistakes, and sometimes those mistakes involve you, and that’s terrifying, because who do you go to? Who do you tell?” Anna grabs his hand and tight.

 

“You tell me.”

 

 

* * *

 

Crowley’s train pulls in at 4pm, and seeing as he’s already been up to visit Anna once, he knows where to go in a taxi. Anna paces up and down the hallway staring at the clock, insisting that she won’t even be bothered if he’s late. Castiel sits in the living room, watching Finding Nemo and quoting it to Dean via text. His legs are folded beneath him and he’s already changed into his comfy KU hoodie, partly because he didn’t want to be in his shirt all day and party because he knows Dean finds him cute in it.

“Come and sit down.” Castiel calls, “He won’t be here for another twenty minutes. You’re positively freaking out.” Anna pokes her head around the doorway and gives him a look.

 

“I am not.” She checks the time again, just to be sure, but in the end she gives up and watches the rest of the movie with Castiel. By the time Crowley actually arrives Anna has changed into her sweatpants and tied her hair into a messy bun, but he still kisses her excessively and winks at Castiel, throwing his bag down in the hallway.

 

“Cassie!” He calls loudly, throwing Castiel a devilish grin. Castiel waves sheepishly, hugging his knees to his chest. He wonders what time Dean will arrive and decides to text him while Anna takes Crowley’s things upstairs. ‘Crowley is here and he’s asking how long you’re going to be x’ he puts, and Dean quickly replies ‘Stop making up it’s Crowley asking when really it’s you ;) I’ll be about two hours baby x x’  Castiel blushes at the nickname and has to turn his cell off for a little while to stop himself getting so flustered. Crowley comes back into the living room and sits on the arm of Castiel’s chair, hands folded in his lap and a smug look on his face. There’s lipstick on the side of his neck and he leans in a little too close for comfort when he speaks.

 

“So how was your Christmas? Lots of sex, I expect?” He raises an eyebrow seductively. Castiel just laughs; he feels like he might actually be getting used to Crowley’s intrusive remarks. Crowley can wink at him and ask him so blatantly about his sex life, and Castiel can handle that, he can shake it off, but Dean calls him baby just once and Castiel is a quivering mess.

 

“Lots of sex.” Castiel replies, just as enthusiastic.

 

“I’m impressed.” Crowley nods towards the TV, “Finding Nemo?”

 

“It’s my favourite.”

 

“Excellent choice, prefer The Little Mermaid myself.” Crowley looks up as Anna walks into the room, fiddling with her hair. “I’m quite fond of red-headed babes in bikinis.”

 

“Are you her Prince Eric?” Castiel says as Anna perches on the arm of the sofa, leaning across the back to wrap her arm around Crowley’s shoulders. He gazes up at her, smiling.

 

“Maybe. Maybe I was haunted by her voice, so much that I searched the entire campus for her. Every day my mission was to sit that little bit closer to her.” He stares at her now, and she stares back. Something soft and heartfelt passes between them, and Anna looks like she might cry. “You sang your song and bewitched me, my fiery dragon.”

 

To pass the time before Dean arrives, Crowley insists they play drinking games. “It’s New Years Eve, losers!” He exclaims, several times. So they sit in a circle -- the three of them -- in the middle of Anna’s living room and play Ring of Fire with cider and vodka and Crowley’s disgusting ale. It actually turns out to be quite a fun game, and after thirty minutes Castiel has Crowley as his ‘gimp’ and Anna has to make giraffe noises on command, so yeah, he doesn’t mind playing Ring of Fire for a full two hours. Except that when Dean finally does knock on the door, Castiel can barely stand to answer it, and he’s shouting about Crowley having a ridiculous haircut.

 

“It’s your boyfriend.” Anna says, climbing to her feet in a manner that isn’t the least bit graceful. Castiel goes to correct her with an over-dramatic sigh.

 

“He’s not my-” He stops, and he realises that yes, Dean Winchester is his boyfriend, and wow, when did that happen? Castiel can’t even feel his face anymore, and Crowley’s hair really is ridiculous. Michael is in his mind, and yet Castiel isn’t sad, or scared, or unhappy. Dean Winchester is his boyfriend and for the first time in a long time he has nothing to worry about. “Yes.” He says, and he says it over and over again until Crowley tackles him into the sofa to shut him up. The contact both startles and excites him because Crowley is on top of him, baring his teeth in a way that is making Castiel giggle, and it’s taken until now for him to realise that Crowley is his friend. Crowley actually likes him enough to engage with him and laugh with him. It’s all fun and games until Castiel realises that Crowley was still holding a glass of ale, and that said ale is now all down is front. He can hear Anna giggling in the hallway, and he knows Dean is with her, and he really, really wants to get up from this sofa to go and see him, his boyfriend, except he thinks he might be glued to the sofa and it’s not like Castiel can actually greet him drenched in ale.

 

“Dare I even ask what’s being going on in here?” Dean’s voice rattles through into the living room as he moves into the middle of the room, his gaze shifting from Crowley to Castiel. He looks amused, as far as Castiel can tell, and he’s wearing the most beautiful khaki jacket. Castiel forces himself up from the sofa and staggers across the room into Dean’s arms, grinning. Dean manages to catch him just before he face-plants the floor. Somewhere in-between Castiel trying to get back to his feet and Dean taking off his jacket, Castiel is kissing him. Dean’s arms are twisted behind his back from trying to remove his jacket, but he leans into the kiss when Castiel grabs his face with both hands. Somehow he manages to fling his jacket on the floor and when he does he throws his arms around Castiel’s waist and slams their hips together, hungrily kissing into Castiel’s mouth.

 

“I missed you,” Castiel murmurs, his lips pressed against Dean’s neck. Dean feels the vibrations from his voice echo through his throat and down his chest, and he doesn’t care that Castiel is drunk, or that Anna and Crowley have run off together upstairs. This is Castiel; the man he loves, and god does he love him. He wants to say it so bad, but he doesn’t know if it’s the right time. He’s sure Castiel feels the same way, and even with Castiel drunk and falling all over him, grabbing his shoulders and his waist and his hips, even with Castiel looking at him with big, fire-blue eyes, even now Dean is too nervous to say it.  

 

“I missed you too.” He manages, but Castiel isn’t really listening anyway, and his hands are shaking across Dean’s face, touching his hair, the nape of his neck.

 

He can tell Dean wants to say something, even if his drunken state Castiel can see unspoken words on his lover’s lips. He wants him to say it, to say the words that Castiel feels. Don’t hold back he wants to say, don’t you ever hold back. Becauseyou’re the the one who held my hand in the cinema and didn’t make fun of me for getting the name of my coffee wrong, you’re the one who wore a suit to a halloween party and flirted with me all night, you’re the one who sang ‘I Want to Hold Your Hand’ to me in the library, and the one who promised to teach me how to drive. You’re the one who rescued me from my abusers, and the one who took the punches when I lost control. You’re the one who was there the next morning, who whispered ‘I love you’ in my ear. You’re the one who made me believe that I really can have love. I love you, I love you and all I want is for you to love me too.

 

“I love you too.” Dean whispers, and there are tears in his eyes when Castiel takes a deep breath.

 

 

* * *

 

Upstairs, Crowley is sprawled across Anna’s bed, caressing the silk sheets between his fingers. He folds it over in his hands until Anna gets annoyed at him for pulling the sheet from the mattress. She swats his hand away and sits next to him in the bed. Anna’s room is much bigger than Crowley anticipated, and she’s a lot more into pink and purple than Crowley anticipated. “It’s very girly.” He points out.

 

“What’s wrong with being girly?” Anna laughs. “Girls are awesome.”

 

A white closet stands in the corner of the room, facing the double bed, and a matching white chest of draws stand beside it. There’s a small ornamental tree made out of silver wire with white gems hanging from the ends of the twisted branches on her bedside table. Crowley can tell it’s handmade. Purple curtains hang heavy in front of the window, and a desk sits quietly, un-used on the other side of the room.

 

“Thank you for the Christmas present.” He says, trying to keep reign over his voice because he really didn’t realise he was this drunk. Anna falls across his body, resting her head on his chest. He brings a hand up to her hair. “It’s my favourite series.” He continues, “You sprayed the paper with your perfume didn’t you?” Anna smiles against him, and Crowley takes it as a yes. “I’m sorry your gift is late.” He sits up, cupping Anna’s confused face in his hands and kissing her. “I wanted to... to give you it in person.”

 

“What is it?” She asks, laughing when he drunkenly kisses the side of her mouth.

 

“It’s here.” He pulls out an envelope from the inside of his coat pocket and hands it to her. Anna lifts it open quickly, tugging on the paper inside. It’s another envelope, and this envelope has a picture of an airplane on the front. Inside is two tickets; Anna almost forgets to breathe when she sees the word Paris.

 

“Crowley...” Her hands covers her mouth.

 

“You said you always wanted to go there.” Crowley stumbles, touching the corner of the tickets. He leans in to kiss her cheek and bumps his nose against her face. “So I want to take you.” He doesn’t move back, and when Anna turns into him he kisses her neck, his lips soft and delicate on her pale skin. He kisses her freckles, along her jawline. He smells of ale and beer, and he hasn’t shaved in a few days so every time he kisses her his stubble scratches her face. “I love you; my fiery dragon, my sun.”

 

“I love you too, my dark side of the moon.”

 

 

* * *

 

This is not how Castiel thought his second year would go. He had pictured lonely nights in front of the television with his cat, watching Star Trek or Back to the Future. He had pictured good grades, lots of reading, and the occasional visit from Anna. What he certainly didn’t picture was Anna falling in love with Crowley, or his brother going to jail, or his self-esteem to soar. Castiel’s life was supposed to be bleak, to be grim, to be full of regrets and self-doubt, just like it had been for the whole of his teenage years.

 

When they go to the fairground that night, Dean takes Castiel on the big wheel, and when they’re at the top and shivering in the snow, Castiel closes his eyes and tries to remember the exact layout of The Coffee Shop. He remembers where every table stood, where the emergency cappuccino milk was kept, and where Dean liked to lean against the counter and peer around at Castiel and his books. He commits every last floor stain to memory. He remembers Dean’s laugh, Dean’s bright smiles when he walked into the shop and the bell clanged above him. He remembers the sweet taste of caramel cappuccinos, and the sweet, sickly feeling in his stomach at the sight of Dean walking over to him.

 

“Hey,” Dean shakes him a little, keeping a tight grip on the safety bar because he’s afraid of heights. “Wake up. Don’t leave me on my own.” The wheel starts to move again. Anna and Crowley are below them, and it’s only a minute away from the New Year countdown. Everyone in the park is shouting and cheering, and the general mood is very happy. Castiel is happy.

 

“I won’t leave you, Dean.” Castiel smiles wide, grabbing Dean’s hand and pulling it away from the bar. “But if there’s one thing you’ve taught me this year, Dean Winchester, it’s that if you want things to change, then you have to let go of the safety bar.”

 

Dean laughs and nods. He holds Castiel’s hand and kisses the side of his face when suddenly hundreds of fireworks burst into the skies in front of them. Castiel gasps at the sight, and laughs freely into the cold, night air.

 

“Happy New Year, Castiel.” Dean shouts over the roar of the crowd below. “I love you!”  

 

“I love you too!” Castiel calls back, and the last thing he commits to memory is the scribbling of his name on the coffee cups.


End file.
